


Enkindled

by acoolgirl



Series: a shot through the heart [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Embedded Images, F/M, Family, Friendship, Humor, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 05:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 82,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acoolgirl/pseuds/acoolgirl
Summary: It doesn't matter the world, my heart will still find yours.Various Gadge one-shot collection. They may range from AU, canon-compliant, canon-divergent etc. Some chapters may have a higher rating.





	1. Miscommunication

Chapter rating: M

Content warning: None

* * *

Madge wakes up and for the first time in a very long time feels total, complete, unadulterated _happiness_.

Sure, for the most part she’s content with how her life has played out, but _this_ \- waking up in Gale Hawthorne’s large arms after what was probably the most satisfying night of her life? Pure heroin couldn’t make her feel as good as she does now.

It’s funny, because yesterday, she was anything _but_ happy. For starters, she had gotten a call from her Mom the night before, which went as well as it always did, which is to say: not at all. She had barely been able to sleep following the strained conversation, and when she arrived at work, she found out that the two-man department of Customer Service had lost half its personnel since Peeta took a sick day, leaving Madge to deal with twice the number of angry customers. On top of that, Delly had accidentally tossed her lunch out when she was cleaning the fridge, though to be fair, she did offer to buy her take-out, but Madge understood it was a genuine mistake, so settled with a cup of noodles she bought from the vending machine that was no doubt over 6 months old.

Then Katniss had come to her rather sheepishly and told her that the order form for one of her clients had been messed up, and could Madge please sort it out for her since she had to go home and take care of her sick boyfriend? Because Madge is a pushover and loves Katniss, she of course, said yes. The entire day would have been far more enjoyable if her work-best friend slash soulmate Gale Hawthorne was in, but he had been called in on a sales call and had said it would probably run late.

So she had stayed late, fighting off a headache the new air freshener Annie had begun using in the office. Why anyone would want to constantly be in an environment that smelled like pumpkin spice latte was beyond Madge. She must more preferred the gentle scents like clean linen or spring breeze. But that’s what she got for going into Customer Service instead of Reception, she supposes.

Finally, a whole hour and a half after closing, Madge had finished her extra assignment. The button down she was wearing had been uncomfortable; she had put on some weight in the past few months, and the shirt was determined to cut off her blood supply at her armpits.

Ready to go home, heat up her stir fry leftovers from yesterday and catch up on Cutthroat Kitchen, Madge hurriedly shrugged on her coat and bustled out the building, only to groan when the outside sky was nearly pitch black. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand about November, it was how the sun just suddenly disappeared after 5 pm. Work was hard enough without Seasonal Affective Disorder punching you in the groin.

Undeterred, she pulled her scarf up to her nose to protect herself from the biting wind and hurried across the nearly vacant parking lot to her small silver Acura. Settling in, Madge rubbed her hands to get the blood flowing again before inserting her key into an ignition

Her Acura made a pathetic whimpering noise. Once. Twice. It didn’t start.

Madge let her head fall against the steering wheel with a large _thump_ , ignoring the horn that went off for a second because of that. If she was the cursing type, her car would have been filled with her shouts of the vilest words known to man.

Before she can start crying from how miserable she is or something equally as pathetic, something raps against her window twice. She looks up to see the dark form of the unrequited love of her life, Gale Hawthorne.

She immediately straightens and wipes at her eyes even though no tears have accumulated there yet, and goes to open her door before realizing that would just hit him. Rolling down her window, Madge is pretty sure her face is as red as her scarf.

“Car problems?” Gale asked in that deep, mind-melting voice of his.

Madge just nodded mutely, still embarrassed at having nearly been caught in a middle of an emotional meltdown.

“Mind if I pop the hood?” Gale tilted his head towards the engine.

“Thank you so much,” Madge squeaked, reaching down to flick the switch that’ll unlatch her car’s hood.

Gale just nodded and walked over to lift her, and Madge scrambled out of her to quickly join him.

“It was fine this morning,” Madge told him, wrapping her arms around her middle in an effort to stay warm. “And I got an oil change this summer.”

Gale grunted in affirmation that he hears her while he prods around her engine. After a few moments, he stands up, pulling out a frayed handkerchief from his coat’s pocket to wipe the grease off his hands. Was she demented to think he looked attractive with car grease on him? Probably.

“It’s probably your starter,” Gale informed her, reaching up to shut her hood. “Not an expensive fix, but the Auto Shop closes at five today.”

Madge closed her eyes. Of course it was closed.

“I can, uh...give you a ride,” Gale said gruffly, making Madge’s eyes fly open. He was looking resolutely at her car.

“Oh! Thank you, but I don’t want to be a bother, I’m sure I’m out of your way and it’s getting late-”

“It’s not a bother,” Gale interrupted her nervous babble, finally looking back at her. “I’m not doing anything tonight.”

“I’d really appreciate that then,” Madge said shyly, looking down at her white Keds.

It had been tense, the first few minutes alone with him in her truck, though she isn't sure why. They're friends, so why is it so hard all of a sudden? But the awkwardness passes and soon they were laughing and talking about their day and other random things like they usually did, and before Madge knew it, they had pulled up at her apartment complex.

“Would you…” Madge trailed off in uncertainty. She didn’t want the evening to end. Just fifteen minutes with Gale had been more than enough to lift her heavy spirits, and she wanted to indulge more in that warm, bubbly feeling he created deep in her chest. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I have some really yummy leftovers that I could heat up real quick.”

“Sure,” Gale agreed with a dimpled smile that nearly made Madge lightheaded. “Where should I park?”

Meticulous by nature, Madge wasn’t worried about the state of her apartment as she let Gale in. What she _was_ worried about was Gale realizing she was boring or dull and regretting his decision in having dinner with her.

“I’d offer you a beer or something, but I don’t drink,” Madge nervously giggled as they took off their winter outerwear.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gale said with a smirk. “You only need alcohol when you’d otherwise be bored.”

“Ok,” Madge tried and failed not to beam at that. “Make yourself comfortable while I heat up the stir fry.”

“I’ll help,” Gale said immediately, and despite her protests, he did. The sheer domesticity of prepping a meal in her small kitchen with him had made her deliriously giddy, and they both found themselves deep in conversation long after their plates had been emptied. Gale had actually had two servings, which had made Madge smug with satisfaction.

A natural lull in their conversation fell, and Gale glanced at the stove top clock. It was nearing 10 pm.

“It’s getting late,” Gale commented, even though he made no move to stand up.

Gale, at first glance, was a quiet, surly man, that did his work with undivided attention. But at a closer look, Madge had learned he was funny, opinionated, head-strong, extremely family-oriented, and a huge softie. They were coworkers, friends, and with his extensive knowledge of her family situation, Madge counted him as a confidant too. He challenged her, he intrigued her, he made her laugh and he made her think. He made her want to be a better version of who she already was. She loved him, she had no doubt of this, but was this the night to tell him this, under the yellow lighting of her linoleum kitchen?

“Madge?” Gale asked quietly, and Madge realized she had been staring at him the entire time she had been examining her feelings for him.

“Sorry,” she apologized immediately, dropping her eyes to her floral tablecloth in embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” Gale told her, with a chuckle. “I was enjoying it.”

“What?” Madge’s eyes widened as she took in what he said. Surely she had misheard? There was no way Gale had enjoyed her ogling him like a stalker creep.

“I said,” Gale said huskily, leaning across the table so that his face was much closer to hers. “I enjoyed it.”

“I-you,” Madge stuttered, unsure of what to say. Could this possibly mean…?

“You, me,” Gale’s breath fanned across her face, and Madge nearly shivered at their proximity. She could see every fleck of black in his gray eyes and she could practically see the sparks of tension between their close faces. “I think I’d enjoy that too.”

What limited experience Madge had with men, that could mostly be summarized and unfulfilling and disappointing had in no way prepared her for what Gale made her feel with his hands, mouth, and body, over and over again. She was pretty sure at one point she had blacked out, only to come back to the vision of Gale arching like a marble statue above her.

Was there a single word to describe that night -perfect? blissful? passionate? hot? heavy? all of the above?

Shifting slightly so she can nuzzle her face into his warm neck, Madge decides it was certainly all of the above, and more.

She lies there for a few moments, letting the sun warm her back from the window they hadn’t drawn the curtains to in their haste, listening to his steady heartbeat beneath her cheek. It was quite literally a dream come true, to finally be with Gale in every way a woman wants a man. And oh, how she had wanted it. Wants it.

Gale’s body twitches gently beneath her, and Madge bites her lip as she waits for him to wake up. As soon as he opens his eyes, she’ll tell him she loves him, just like how he moaned into her ears just hours before, as he had dove into her over and over again. Madge blushes at the sentiment and arousal attached to the memory.

_Gale loves me…._

“Gurah,” Gale mumbles nonsensically in his sleep. Madge lifts her head to watch his expressions. Whatever his dream, it must be a wonderful one, because he looks absolutely delighted.

Madge blushes even more as she wonders if maybe he was dreaming of her.

“Katniss…” Gale moans besides her, lips twisting up into a satisfied smirk.

It’s as if a bucket of ice water has been thrown on her. He was dreaming of Katniss. He’s _moaning_ Katniss’s name in her _bed._ All those sweet words he had practically sang to her, they had been for Katniss.

Madge shoves Gale away from her forcibly, startling him awake as she blindly reaches for her bathrobe slug across her headboard.

“Madge?” Gale croaks, sitting up.

“You should go,” Madge says icily, not turning to look at him as she knots the robe closed. She won’t cry in front of him. She can’t.

“Why?” Gale asks, sounding completely bewildered. “Please Madge, did I-”

“Just go!” Madge shouts, whirling around to glare at him. “Go, and never come back!”  
  
The confusion is swept off his face and is instantly replaced by cold hard fury.

“I will,” Gale spits, shoving the covers off his naked body. “I clearly misjudged who you are.”

“You did,” Madge says stonily. She wasn’t a loose woman he could use to sate his desires for another woman. She was a person with feelings, and she wouldn’t allow for herself to be used and tossed away like a doll. Not anymore than he had already done, that is.

Even in the bathroom with the exhaust fan on, Madge can hear the sound of her apartment door being slammed shut. The walls still shaking from the reverberations, Madge falls to the cold tiled floor, letting the sobs tear through her like a knife.

Peeta, and his astute skill of people reading rewards her with different baked goods every day at lunch, along with silent, but meaningful looks that say _I’m here if you need me_. She appreciates his kindness, she really does, but she doesn’t want to talk about what happened. The fact that it had happened was humiliating enough, she just couldn’t bare to relive it when recounting it to someone.

Katniss had been less subtle in her concern. In a typical, Katnissesque fashion, she had pulled her to the side during their break and asked what was wrong.

She had, in that moment, been filled with both resentment and envy towards her quiet friend. Peeta loved her like she was a piece of the moon itself, and now Madge knew that Gale did too. Was it too much to ask that Madge had just _one_ person to love her without abandon when Katniss had two?

But as Katniss had stood there, waiting for her reply, Madge let go of her hatred. It isn’t as if Katniss had forced Gale to love her, and she certainly hadn’t made him use her they way he had.

“Just a little rough patch,” Madge answered with a tired smile. “But I’m fine, really.”

Katniss didn’t look like she believed her, but she didn’t press her any further. It seemed as if the entire office could tell that Madge was broken hearted, though how, she wasn’t sure. She still kept her hair in a neat bun, and wore clean, ironed clothes, arrived on time and did her work just as efficiently as she always did.

Maybe they saw how she and Gale acted whenever they were in each other’s proximity. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since that day, but if by chance their eyes would meet, they both would look away immediately. Madge would become nervous and jittery if he was near whereas Gale would usually just take one glance at her and storm off.

If Madge cursed, she would say it was an all around shitty situation. Because it really was.

“Are you sure you can’t come?” Peeta practically whined. It was Friday, and the whole office was going to the local Pub for happy hour. “I know you don’t drink, but you can have some coke and nachos!”

“It’s fine, really Peeta,” Madge placated him, reaching over to rub his shoulder. “Thank you for the offer though.”

Peeta gave her one last puppy dog look before acquiescing and joining the others. Madge sighed and turned back to the load of paperwork on her desk. None of it was work related, they were from her Mother’s rehabilitation center, she was to be discharged soon, but not before all the proper paperwork was completed. Father had volunteered to take care of everything, but he already did so much, that this really was the least that Madge could do.

Pulling a pen from the cup on her desk, she began the menial task, hardly glancing up while she worked. It took her longer than expected, since she had to look up several things, like her Mother’s full medical history, which was four times longer than the average person’s. By the time she was done, it was nearing 6 pm.

It wasn’t as if she had anything to do afterwards anyways.

Slowly, she gets up, and bundles herself to protect her from the frigid December cold. At least in two weeks they’ll have their Christmas vacation. Then she can visit her parents and pretend their relationship isn’t totally dysfunctional and damaged beyond repair.

Her spirits are lower than the temperature as she steps into the dark parking lot, hands deep in her pockets as she makes her way to her Acura. She’s nearly there, when suddenly, her foot slips out from underneath her, and she crashes onto the hard gravel beneath her, the impact knocking the breath out of her lungs. She had slipped on black ice.

She lies there for a moment, just trying to regain her ability to breathe, her foot and backside throbbing terribly from the fall. She shuts her eyes tightly as she wonders if this is, quite literally, rock bottom.

“Undersee.”

She no longer wonders if this is rock bottom. Because Gale Hawthorne next to her as she lies writhing on the freezing ground is the dictionary definition of all time low.

He doesn’t wait for her answer, and reaches down to help her up, pulling her up with one hand while supporting her back with his other.

Madge wants to snap at him. Tell him to take his filthy hands off of her. Maybe even punch him. But she can’t. Because despite _everything_ , she’s missed him desperately, and as he helps her up, she allows herself to imagine that he’s always a chivalrous gentleman that cares about her.

“Thank you,” she murmurs once he lets go, gingerly rubbing her tender backside. It will bruise, that she’s certain of.

He grunts, and walks away from her, as if what just happened didn’t happen. The sight of his back to her wrenches at her heart.

Before she knows what she’s doing, she calls out to him.

“Why’d you do it?”

She knows why, of course she does. He wanted Katniss, but couldn’t have her, so used Madge to take out his frustration. But she wants to hear this from him-needs him to break her heart totally, so she can finally begin that arduous thing called healing.

“I’m sure you think of me as some sort of low life that was fun to toy with,” Gale spits. “But I’m not. If I see a woman hurt, I have to help her. That’s how my Ma raised me to be.”

“Fun to toy with?” Madge balks. “What on Earth are you talking about?”

“Fuck this,” Gale seethes. “I don’t need to hear your pathetic fucking excuses Undersee. Just leave me alone.”

“Gale, wait!” Madge shouts, rushing towards him, only to practically crumble as a sharp pain shoots up her ankle. “Ow!”

Gale walks back to her reluctantly, a large scowl etched deeply into his features.

“Here,” he offers gruffly, practically shoving his arm in front of her for her to hold on to. Despite her anger towards him, she can't help but be touched that he's still acting so courteous towards her.

“Wait,” Madge says evenly, grabbing onto his arm to keep him from running. “Please, Gale, I’d like to understand. How did _I_ toy with _you_ , when you were the one that used _me_!”

“How is telling you I love you _using you_?” Gale yells, his breath sending billows of white condensation into the bitingly cold night air. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Because you meant that for Katniss!” Madge responds indignantly. “I heard you! In the morning, you were moaning _her_ name!”

“And you had to know I loved you,” Madge continues, voice growing shrill as tears gather in her eyes. She isn’t sure if she’s shaking from the cold or the emotional turmoil within her. “You _had_ to, because everyone else does. And yet you used that knowledge to manipulate me into sleeping with you so you could get rid of your frustrations over not having Katniss!”

She’s heaving by the time she’s finished speaking, but Gale is silent, staring at her with wide eyes.

This continues for nearly a minute more, and Madge is about to scoff and limp to her car, when Gale sweeps her into his arms, carrying her to his truck.

“Let me down!” Madge struggles against his arms, but it's to no avail, he’s much stronger than him. “Gale, stop this!”

“You’ll get sick if you stay in the cold,” is all Gale says, as he somehow manages to open his truck door with her still in his arms.

“And that concerns you how?” Madge demands, only to be ignored by him. He settles her into the seat and closes the door, before walking around and sliding into the driver’s seat.

She doesn’t know why she stays in the truck. She tells herself it’s because of her ankle, but she knows that isn’t true.

“I think,” Gale begins, once he’s started the truck and cranked up the heating to its highest setting. “That there’s been a huge misunderstanding here.”

“Clearly,” Madge snaps, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

“Madge,” Gale chuckles, making her look up in surprise. “I know exactly what you’re referring to. That morning, when I ‘moaned’ Katniss’s name, I was dreaming that I was bragging that I had won the hotter blonde.”

“What?” Madge asks incredulously, trying to process his words.

“I’m not in love with Katniss,” Gale clarifies, bringing up a large hand to gently stroke her cheek. “I’m in love with _you_.”

“I,” Madge doesn’t even try to stop the tears that leak over. She’s never felt so ashamed. “Gale, I am so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed things like that.”

“Shh,” Gale wipes away her tears, and brings her face forward until they’re forehead to forehead. “ _I’m_ sorry too. I was so hurt that I had bared my feelings to you only to be rejected in the morning, that I didn’t even think to talk things through with you.”

“None of this is on you,” Madge insists, still crying. “I’m so sorr-”

Her apology is cut off with Gale’s chapped lips pressing against her blubbering ones.

“Apology accepted,” Gale says firmly. “Although,” he waggles an eyebrow and flashes her favorite smile of his. “I can think of a few ways you can make things up to me…”

Madge puts her mittened hands against his scruffy cheeks and pulls him in for another kiss, the cold of outside completely forgotten.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 


	2. Steamed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Content Warning: None, though a lot of 20's slang that is indexed in the end notes.

“Oy!” The apple-stand woman yells after him, as he lunges over her small display. “You off your chumps?!”

“Sorry!” Gale tosses over his shoulder as he continues sprinting. The other side of the pavement was too overcrowded with bustling pedestrians, and the roads were a’buzzin’ with automobiles and Gale didn’t fancy gettin rolled- not when he had a train to catch.

“Go chase yourself!” the Mrs. Grundy shouts, but Gale pays her no mind, already turning around the corner.

It was a nice summer day in Panem. The flappers were already out and about, strolling on the sidewalks with their French cigars a lit, and hounds of Sheik’s with their bellbottoms and racoon coats following their smoke trails.

Not that Gale could turn his nose up to that, not when he was runnin’ after a broad himself.

After narrowly dodging a Model-T and cutting through an indignant group of youngin’s playin’  kick the can, Gale finally reached the looming train station, in all its Art Deco glory.

Chest heavin’ from runnin’ four blocks, Gale pulls out a hankie from his frayed overall and wipes at his face, hopin’ it gets at the grease and sweat. He don’t need his Ma to tell him his hair is beyond salvation, but he still takes off his cap and stuffs it in his pocket, and runs a hand through it. He can’t talk to his doll lookin’ like a tosser.

“Excuse me,” Gale gruffly asks a stout Porter who’s leaning against a wall, lollygagging. “Which is the noon train to Philly?”

The short man looks him up and down before reaching up to twist his mustache, smirking. “Lost Dame?” he asks with a laugh. “I’ll need some cabbage to chew on, sonny.”

Gale glares at him and looks around for anyone else he can ask. He reaches into his pocket and practically shoves the nickle in his face.

“Ha! I was hankerin’ for a coke,” the Porter tells him cheekily. “Line 9.”

Gale takes off once more, till he finds the large Locomotive that’s carryin’ his love away from him.

She’s nowhere in sight, and Gale begins to panic as he looks through the station crowd. She was always such a small thing, that she might just skim past his nose without him even knowin’.

“Mr. Hawthorne?”

Gale whirls around and finds Madge’s beautiful face staring back at him from one of the barred windows of the train.

“Miss. Undersee!” Gale exclaims, pushing forward through the crowd until he’s practically pressed against the train’s side. He sends a blessing to his Pa above him for givin’ him long gams because he’s eye to eye with her, and his hands come up to clasp the bars that separate them, wishing he could tear them away.

“What are you doing here?” she asks politely, though her cornflower blue eyes are wide. Her blonde curls spill out from under her hat, and her skin is just as creamy as the pearls that hang around her neck. She’s a vision, even in her modest traveling clothes.

“I was wrong Miss. Undersee,” Gale pants, still winded from all his runnin’. “It don’t matter that I’m a mechanic and your Pa is a banker, I want to be with you.”

“Well...it’s too late for that,” Madge says quietly, her eyes flicking down. “Daddy is calling me up to meet a suitor.”

“Then don’t go!” Gale practically wails, clenching the bars even tighter. He vaguely hears the conductor shout  _ All aboard!  _ “Didn’t you say you loved me?”

It was funny how they had met. He worked at 12th street Auto Repair Shoppe, and Madge lived in the girl’s dormitory across said street. He would have never noticed her, just another young, rich Yankee broad that had come down South to attend a college whose tuition was more than the life insurance payout his family had been given upon his Pa’s death. But she had approached him, shyly asking if they could sneak a car out for him to teach her how to drive on. He had flat out refused her the first time, and she had taken it with grace, politely excusing herself, but she had returned, over and over again, with different treats and sweets, even making friends with Rory, his fool of a brother that worked with him, that Gale relented, if only to stop getting hassled by the other men in the garage over his new mystery sweetheart.

It turned out that none of the girls she knew had any brothers that were willing to teach her how to drive, so she had turned to him, a complete stranger, for lessons. Said she wanted the independence that came from being able to drive yourself. He didn’t care much for her reasons, since she was so quick of a learner that most of their ‘lessons’ had ended in jazz clubs before they would have to sneak the car back in.

Why she chose him, of all the men in the garage, he to this day doesn’t know, but he thanks every star in the smoggy sky that she had.

“I did,” Madge’s fair skin flushes. “I also remember you saying that you  _ don’t _ . So I’ll kindly have to ask you to leave Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Madge,” Gale pleads, watching her stiffen in surprise at his familiar use of her first name. He’d only call her that when they’d kiss. “I was lyin’. I didn’t want you to marry a man that can hardly provide a roof over that pretty head of yours, but if you’re willin’, I’ll work myself to the bone to keep you happy.”

“Oh, Gale,” Madge sighs, her soft fingers settling over his clenched hands. “I don’t need a house and chiffon dresses or any of that decadence. I just want a happy family with you. That’s all I’ve  _ ever _ wanted.”

The loud departure whistle goes off, and the creaking noise of the cranks beginning to move cuts Gale off before he can say anything.

Immediately, he lets go of the bars and rushes towards the nearest door, yanking it in frustration when he finds it locked. Running back to Madge, he walks briskly to keep up with the now moving train. 

“Marry me Madge,” Gale says desperately. “I love you!”

The train has sped up, and Gale has to practically run to keep up. He watches as Madge looks around frantically before her gaze meets his pointedly.

“Stop running,” Madge commands, face set in determination.

It goes against his every instinct, but he obeys, mostly because Madge has never outright told him to do anything before. His chest aches as he watches the train draw further away from him, going further and further into the tunnel that’ll lead it out of the station and onto the tracks that’ll carry Madge hundreds of miles away from him.

She had rejected him. In the end, his love wasn’t enough, and now she was going to marry Old Money up in Philadelphia while Gale spent the rest of his days under cars that didn’t belong to him.

He turns around. He can’t bear to watch her disappear forever. He also can’t go back to the garage now, not with all the men knowing exactly where he’s been.

“Gale!” he turns around in shock and finds Madge waving at him wildly from the caboose balcony of the train, arms bundled with her baggage.

He sprints towards her- there isn’t a moment to waste, and holds out his arms.

“Jump!” he shouts, his heart hammerin’ away in his chest like a jackhammer.

He can see the fear in her eyes, but he see’s something else too, something that looks like love trust hope and fate all in one gaze, and in the next moment, when her body falls into his awaiting arms, he knows he’ll never let her go, not again.

“Oh goodness!” Madge gasps in his arms, her breathing quick from no doubt the exhilaration off jumping off a moving train. “I can’t believe I just did that!”

He sets her down gently, and takes her bags from her only to put them down next to him. Propriety be damned, he pulls her back into his hold and kisses her till he’s dizzy.

When they finally pull away, Madge’s cheeks are a pretty pink, and she flutters her eyelashes prettily up at him.

“Were you serious?” Madge murmurs shyly. “About marrying me?”

“Of course,” Gale growls, leaning down to kiss her again.

Their kiss is interrupted by the smug Porter.

“Take the nickel back sonny, and buy the woman a coke for Chrissakes, she just jumped outta movin’ train for ya!

Gale lets him keep the nickel. He’s going to take her home to meet Ma and then buy a ring, coke be damned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slang defintions
> 
> "You off your chumps?" : Are you crazy?
> 
> "Go chase yourself!" : Get lost!
> 
> Mrs. Grundy: Stingy old woman
> 
> Flapper: Fashionable young women
> 
> Sheik: Fashionable young men
> 
> Broad: Woman
> 
> Cabbage: Money
> 
> Gams: Legs


	3. Love Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E
> 
> Content warning: None

Gale had grown up surrounded by natural beauty all his life, but even with his childhood brimmed with magical forests and ancient mountains, the Valley he and Lady Madge floated through was of a beauty so great, it actually made his chest constrict.

They were in a small rowboat, navigating through waters so clearly that when Gale glanced over the side of the boat into the water, it was as if he were staring into a mirror. They were headed to Ends Summit  Point, where they would take the lone gondola that swung there up to the Highpeople, enlisting their help with the revolution.

“I can’t believe this is real,” Lady Madge sighs from behind him, and he looks over at his shoulder so he can see her.

With her white dress, and curly hair pinned back so it doesn’t fall in her eyes, Gale would argue that the Lady is prettier than the valley they’re in, but swallows back the words on his tongue. They’re here on a mission, one critical to the survival of all the good and kind people of the land, and he isn’t going to jeopardize it with his juvenile attraction.

He had always found her outrageously gorgeous, even when he had hated her. She was the daughter of a duke, hence her title lady, and Gale had pinned the sins of their King onto her. And yet, when his dear friend Katniss had sparked the first fires of the revolution, Lady Madge had run from her castle to join him and the other peasantfolks of the village, ready to give her life to the noble fight of freedom.

He had been suspicious of her in the beginning, to the point where every word of his directed towards her were biting and cruel. She had never retaliated, only shook her head and pursed her lips tightly. But a few months ago, their small rebel party had been ambushed, and Gale had taken a sword to the gut. He had been so sure he was going to die. But Madge had simply undone his vest and began to work on his wound. She had saved his life.

After that, she continued to prove to him time and time again that the schooling she had received in the name of the Royal Crown was invaluable, but more than that, Gale learned that she was perhaps the kindest, bravest woman he had ever met. _Not_ that he would ever say any of this to her, because despite her cool temperament, he was sure she hated him. Rightfully so.

So instead he just grunts an affirmation. He’s learned the hard way every time he opens his mouth near the Lady, he ends up looking like a fool.

Lady Madge sighs again, though she doesn’t say anything, and he feels the boat a little to the side as she leans out and lets her hand skim across the water’s surface.

They continue like that for a while, Gale rowing, and Lady Madge letting her hand float along lazily. The day is cool, not too warm nor cold, with a gentle breeze to dry away any sweat that comes from his labor. The only sounds of the valley are the birds that sing their songs, and the rustling of quiet leafs. Despite on the brink of a full-scale war, Gale feels relaxed by the scenery around him.

“Oh!” Lady Madge gasps suddenly, making Gale jump.

“What?” he asks, turning around to look at her. She’s clecnhing the hand she had in the water tightly, staring at her wrist intently.

“Something bit me,” Lady Madge tells him. Holding out her arm towards him, Gale looks at her wrist. There’s a bright red spot where she was bitten, but more disconcertingly, the normally blue veins around the bite are black in color.

“Are you alright?” he asks, looking up at her now pale face in alarm.

“Can you dock us?” Lady Madge asks quietly. Gale nods and immediately steers the boat to the gentle river’s bank, stepping into the cool waters to tug the boat onto land. Lady Madge gets up once he’s done and shakily steps out of the boat.

“I need to consult my books,” Lady Madge says quickly, rummaging through her packs. “It may not be what I’m thinking.”

“What are you thinking?” Gale asks nervously. He can protect her from swords and arrows and fires, but to lose her from a mere bite? The thought sickens him.

Lady Madge looks at him warily, but doesn’t answer. That surely can’t be a good sign. Gale resorts to pacing nervously, glancing at her every few seconds to see if she’s found something.

After looking through all three of her books, Madge slams the final one shut and sighs, pinching her nose.

“What is it?” Gale demands, walking up to where she sits on a rock. “You’ll be alright, won’t you?”

“It’s a bite from something called the love bug,” Madge answers quietly, not meeting his gaze. “If I don’t get the antidote before the poison,” she points to the blackening of her veins, which has spread since the last time he saw it. “Reaches my heart, I’ll die.”

“What’s the antidote?” Gale asks, half hopefully, half dreadfully. Please, oh _please_ let it be something they can easily access.

“Well…” Lady Madge trails off, her skin suddenly flushing. Is this another symptom of the bite?

“You’re red my Lady!” Gale cries. “Tell me how I can save you!”

“It’s a _love_ bug!” Lady Madge shouts, looking at him expectantly.

Gale frowns. “...So?”

“The _antidote_ ,” Madge says through gritted teeth, covering her eyes with one hand. “Is...to have...intercourse.”

Gale just stands there stupidly, unsure if he heard her correctly.

“And to completely dispel the toxins,” Lady Madge continues in a strained voice, face still covered. “Not only do I have to...come to completion, but the man must... _finish_ inside me.”

“Uhh…” on one hand, laying with Madge would quite literally be a recurring dream come true, while on the other hand, he had been hoping had the lady ever decide to be with him, it would have been of her own volition, not out of sheer desperation to stay alive.

“I’m so sorry,” Madge whispers, finally removing her hands from her face. Gale is shocked at the sight of tears in her large eyes. “I know you hate me, but I-”

“I don’t hate you!” Gale quickly cuts in forcibly. “Believe me, my Lady, I hold you in the highest of regards.”

“I would be honored to...be with you, if you allowed it,” Gale finishes nervously, stuffing his hands self-consciously in his pockets.

“Allow it?” Madge echos. “Good Sir, I was ready to beg you.”

Gale shakes his head. Can’t she see his devotion for her?

Reaching down, he tilts her chin up gently so her gaze meets his head on.

“My fair Lady,” Gale says in a suddenly husky voice. “Whatever I can give to you, I will. You don’t ever have to beg with me.”

“I,”  Madge swallows tightly, seemingly at a loss for words. Gale just chuckles and pulls away and goes back into their boat to pull out a thick quilt. He unfolds in and lays it on the damp sand. Not the most ideal spot, but it’ll have to do.

“Thank you so much Sir Hawthrone,” Madge murmurs nervously, wringing her hands tightly as she stands up uncertainly.

“Call me Gale,” he tells her wolfishly, clasping her forearm to pull her towards him. “After all, we’re about to become _very_ familiar with each other.”

She gasps at their sudden proximity, but Gale is suddenly emboldened with hope. He kept failing at telling her how much he cared with words, maybe he could show her with his actions instead...

He reaches up and begins to gently pull out the pins that hold back her hair, watching with rapt attention as the curls fall free. They’re so golden that they practically glow in the warm sunlight.

Madge’s eyes are resolutely trained on the ground, and her cheeks are so red that it almost looks as if she’s been sunburned. He lowers his hands to gently cup her warm cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across the ridge of her cheekbone.

“You’re so beautiful Madge,” he whispers, and her eyes flicker up to his uncertainly. “When I first saw you, I thought you were an elf.”

“More like a dwarf,” Madge snorts, rolling her eyes, even though her lips curve up in a large smile “I certainly feel like one when I stand next to you.”

It’s true, she doesn’t even clear his shoulders, but truthfully, that just pleases his male ego.

“Most people do,” Gale chuckles. “Ma always jokes that Pa’s forefathers had to be giants.”

“I’d believe that,” Madge giggles. Pleased that she’s relaxed a bit, Gale leans down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. Time _is_ of the essence, but he doesn’t want her to feel rushed. He highly suspects she’s never been with a man.

He walks backwards until they reach the quilt, and then lets go of her arms so he can crouch down and unlace his boots. Madge’s shoes, which are far too dainty for someone that likes to consider themselves a soldier just slip off, and she steps onto the quilt before him.

Once he’s kicked off his boots, he turns around, only to nearly fall over in surprise. She’s already taken off her dress and is watching him expectantly.

His multitude of daydreams, even the night ones, had not done her womanly curves justice. Her wide hips beg him to grasp her, while her milky breasts spill over her brassiere, teasing him by just existing.

“You’re so beautiful,” Gale repeats, stepping towards her reverently. He lifts a hand to settle on her soft stomach, the fine golden hairs there soft against the roughness of his hand. Stretching out his fingers, he finds that his hand nearly covers the entirety of her torso, that’s how small she is compared to him. Slowly, he begins to move his hand up until it reaches the pale pink brasserie, which he quickly unlatches.

Her breasts bounce free, her dusty pink nipples already hard. Madge brings up her arms and cover them self-consciously, though why, he has no idea. He’s seen his fair share of breasts, and none of them hold the clean beauty hers does.

Slow, he had decided to take it slow, he remembers.

“Come here,” Gale says quietly, pulling her into his arms and settling them both down onto the quilt. Once she’s situated comfortably, Gale begins to kiss her collarbone, making his way up his neck, relishing in the soft gaps Madge lets out.

Finally, he reaches her mouth. Just before he can press his lips to hers, he pauses, and looks into her eyes, where she stares back, confused at his abrupt stop in kissing.

“May I?” he asks gruffly. They may have to lay with each other, but a kiss...is somehow more intimate than that. At least to him, in this very moment, it is.

“Of course,” Madge breaths, giving him a small smile.

So he kisses her, and soon is tongue is roaming the inside of her mouth, carefully traversing across every dip, bump, and smoothness. If Madge hadn’t moaned into his mouth, he would have totally forgotten the goal here, and would continue to kiss her for hours. He pulls back, and takes in her flushed face and swollen lips with glee. Sometime during the kiss, she had uncovered her breasts to wind her arms around his neck, baring herself to him once more.

He climbs over her and ducks his head so his lips brush against her nipple.

“Gale!” Madge gasps, clutching his forearms tightly.

“Yes?” he asks mischievously.

Madge frowns at him, and Gale can’t help but laugh at how adorable she looks when she pouts.

“Don’t tease,” she tries to say sternly, the effect totally lost from the pink of her cheeks.

“Your wish is my command,” Gale tells her with a chuckle, taking a nipple in his mouth.

“Oh!” Madge gasps, clutching his arms even tighter. He sucks on that breasts for a few moments more before turning his attention to its neglected sister.

By the time he’s done both her breasts are wet with his spittle and are littered with love bites.

“Take off your shirt,” Madge tells him, tugging his shirt out of his pants. He complies, and is rewarded with Madge running her hands down his chest all the way to the planes of his abdomen. He nearly hisses when they venture below his navel, but she quickly retracts them.

“I’ve...always wanted to that,” Madge admits, turning her face so she can’t look at him. “All the girls back at Camp always talked about how handsome you looked without a shirt.”

“You should have done that a long time ago then,” Gale says, lowering himself so his torso is lying completely against hers. The feel of her soft breasts pushing into his chest nearly drives him mad. “It would have made me very happy.”

Madge looks back at him, but sadly. “Good thing you had other girls to do it.”

Gale’s eyebrows shoot up. She hadn’t sounded petulant or jealous, just resigned.

“There haven’t been any other girls,” Gale insists. “Well, maybe before. But since I’ve met you, there hasn’t been anyone.”

“Truly?” Madge breathes, eyes wide.

“Truly,” Gale confirms, leaving a sweet kiss on her cheek.

He lifts himself off her once more. She seems as comfortable as she can given the situation, and he doesn’t want to delay any longer, not when it’s so easy to forget that Madge is in danger.

Curling his fingers around the waistband of her undergarment, he pulls off the cotton cloth slowly, revealing the golden curls that rest atop her womanhood. She lifts her legs for him to take off the cloth completely, tossing it next to where her dress lies beside them.

He lifts her leg again to press a kiss to her ankle, then calf, then the back of her knee till he finally reaches her inner-thigh, where he leaves a flurry of kisses.

“Gale,” Madge giggles. “I’m fine, really to...you know.”

Gale mock glares at her.

“No you aren’t,” he declares. “But you will be, very soon.”

She rolls her eyes, but bites her lip to stop from grinning. Gale smiles at her, before parting her legs, giving her an unobstructed view of her bright pink, womanly flower.

“Very soon,” Gale repeats, as he skims his fingers across her lady lips, eliciting another gasp from Madge. He’s able to find that pearl of pleasure above her opening soon enough, and after just a minute of continuous circular motions, Madge is clenching the quilt below her tightly.

He quickly retracts his hand before she can fall over the edge, however. No, he wants to bring her there another way.

“What are-” Madge’s question is broken off when he shuffles forward and plunges his tongue within her, tasting her unique nectar. “Gale!”

He continues lapping at her, licking, kissing and sucking every inch of her down there, before settling back at her pearl, which he latches onto and sucks on rhythmically. Now that he's had a taste of her forbidden fruit, he can't get enough.

Madge’s hands wind themselves tightly in his hair, and her back arches totally off the bed as she comes with a scream.

“Oh Gods,” Madge gasps, eyes unfocused as she slowly comes back from the high Gale had sent her on.

By the point, Gale’s cock is straining painfully against his pants, and he quickly unbuckles his belt and slides down his pants, hissing in relief when he finally frees himself.

“Do you want me to...touch you?” Madge asks shyly, propping herself up on her elbows, watching him nervously.

“I won’t last very long if you do,” Gale tells her honestly. “Frankly, I’ve held out for as long as I can. If we’re going to do this, we need to do this now.”

“Right,” Madge nods, lying back down and staring at the sky.

Gale chuckles and repositions himself between her legs. He takes his cock in one hand and rubs the tip against her opening, making Madge squirm.

Gale rests one arm by her head and leans down till his nose is pressed against hers.

“Ready?” he asks, nuzzling her nose with his.

“Ready,” Madge answers in a small, but confident voice. He slips inside her with one stroke.

His vision nearly turns white at the feel of her walls parting to accept his girth and length, and he has to forcibly stop himself from just ploughing into her like how every muscle in his body begs him to do- he needs to let Madge adjust to his size.

He opens his eyes and finds Madge’s face scrunched and body tensed.

“Am I hurting you?” Gale asks fearfully.

“No,” Madge answers with a deep breath. She opens her eyes and gives him an encouraging smile. “No, I’m ok now. Promise.”

To prove her point, Madge pulls him down for another deep kiss. Lips still locked with hers, he begins to move within her, making Madge gasp into his mouth.

Soon, they’re both panting too hard to continue kissing. Gale straightens so he can squeeze her breasts as he slowly slips in and out of her. He wants this to last as long as he can, because as much as he hates to admit it, he may never be with Madge like this again.

“Oh Gale,” Madge sighs, closing her eyes as he rocks against her. “Feels so good…”

“Does it darling?” Gale asks her. He lets go off a breast to bring his hand down to where he enters her, rubbing her pearl once more.

“Yes!” Madge exclaims, arching into his touch. He speeds up his hand, and amazingly, he can actually feel her walls tighten and flutter in anticipation of her completion. He pulls away his hand and buries both hands in her hair, resting his forehead against hers before he picks up his pace, pounding into her at a relentless pace, her breast bouncing wildly with each thrust

“Gale! Oh! _Yes!”_ Madge exclaims, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. Gale screws his eyes shut, and all he can focus on is the silken feel of Madge around him and the adorable mewing noises she's making. The first load of his seed is emptied in her, and Madge groans at the sensation. He continues the frantic pace of his hips, as he empties himself more and more inside her, his seed providing an amazing lubricant that makes his movements even smoother.

" _Madge_ ," he rasps, unable to take just how beautiful she looks beneath him. 

Just before he’s about to collapse, Madge’s nails dig even deeper into his back and her entire body shudders in absolute delight as she finishes. Gale thrusts into her one final time with a roar before collapsing onto her, barely catching himself and shifting his weight to the side so he doesn’t crush her.

They just lie there, for a few moments, heaving for breath, and limbs boneless.

“Let me see your wrist,” Gale murmurs against the base of her throat. Madge lifts her hand, and he finds that the black has faded to a light gray, and hasn’t grown past where he had last seen it. “So you’re alright now?”

“Yes,” Madge answers quietly, body suddenly stiff under his. “Thank you again.”

“Stop thanking me,” Gale nearly snaps, pushing himself up so he can look at her. “I thought I made it clear that I’ve wanted to do this with you for a long time.”

“Well now you’ve done it,” Madge says stiffly. “You can move on the next apple of your eye.”

“Madge,” he shakes his head incredulously. How does she not get it? “Didn’t you hear me? There isn’t anyone else.”

“I don’t understand you!” Madge explodes, sitting up herself and grabbing her dress in a fruitless attempt to cover herself. “You’ve always hated me, and now you’re acting like you’re in love with me!”

“I _don’t_ hate you,” Gale assures her. “I was a fool in the past. But I quickly learned that you were nothing like what I thought you were. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you all this for months, but whenever I’m near you, it’s like I have a foot instead of a tongue in my mouth.”

“I could be with child,” Madge says suddenly, looking at him very closely. “What we just did, it could result in a babe in my belly. What will you do then?”

Gale looks at her smooth stomach, and imagines _his_ child growing there, marking Madge as his to the entire world.

“Probably go mad with joy,” Gale admits with a shrug. “I’ve always wanted a lot of kids.”

“Really?” Madge squeaks, looking at him both in apprehension and in elation.

“Of course,” Gale assures her, pulling her into his lap. “When the war is over, and I’m still alive of course, I’ll ask you to marry me, and put many babies in you, if you’ll allow me.”

Madge is quiet for a long moment, and Gale is afraid that he’s misspoke once more, but then she turns around in his lap, her still wet core above his cock. It would take one well-aimed thrust and he’d be inside her again, which makes him hard quicker than he thought was possible.

“I’ll allow you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the Fuck or Die trope. I seem to be unable to write smut that isn't romantic. Also , this wasn't meant to be a LOTR au, but if you read it as one, that's fine I guess.


	4. Baby Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Content Warning: Hinting at postpartum depression but not really

Madge is about to lose her mind. 

She’s driving at least ten miles below the speed limit on the busy interstate, earning her quite a few horns, cut offs, and two fingers. But she hardly pays any attention to that,  _ because she can’t see her baby. _

Since she was born, this was the first time Madge has left the house alone with Lyra, and she had not counted on it going this badly already. At the moment, everything is fine, Lyra is napping in her car seat while Madge drives along, but because she had to put in the car seat so that it’s back is to Madge, she can’t see her infant’s face, which is filling her with more anxiety than was healthy.

“Ok!” Madge mutters under her breath as she flicks on her blinker. “Time for a little innovation.”

She pulls her Acura to the highway’s shoulder and steps out of the still running car, opening the rear door to check up on her daughter.

She was as Madge had left her, bundled up, little hands balled tightly as they rested on her slow rising chest, her chubby cheeks ruddy with health.

“Get a  _ grip _ Madge,” she mutters to herself, running a frantic hand through her carefully styled hair. This wasn’t acceptable- she couldn’t drive without freaking out every few minutes that she couldn’t see Lyra, but she also  _ couldn’t  _ just drive without knowing she was ok. What if her belt started choking her? Or the sun was shining right on her and was burning her eyes? Or she had to throw up, but choked on her own vomit?

Madge shuts the door to shield Lyra from the gusty winds and loud noises coming from the highway as she began to pace relentlessly, no doubt looking like a mad woman.

Just as she was about to throw in and call it quits and go home, she had a sudden stroke of inspiration. Rushing over to the passenger side at the front of the car, she yanks open the door and immediately begins pulling at the sun visor, trying desperately to tear it from where it’s melded onto the roof of the car. After a few minutes or fruitless effort, she remembers that Gale always keeps a pocket knife in the glove compartment, and pulls that out, sawing through the plastic that attached the visor to the roof. It takes nearly 10 minutes, but she’s finally cut through enough that when she yanks with all her strength, which really isn’t much since she hasn’t exercised since giving birth, the visor finally comes off.

Madge retrieves the electrical tape from the glove compartment and makes her way to her baby, where she flips the visor so the small mirror reflects Lyra’s face to Madge in her rear view mirror, taping it in place. Lyra makes a mewl of discontent by the time Madge is done, no doubt bothered by the cold, and Madge leans down and kisses her cheeks, and gently rubbing her chest with a soothing hand, quieting her down.

She’s feeling proud of herself when she climbs back into her driver’s seat, but when she glances over at where she had torn off the visor like a mad woman, she can’t help but cringe. That certainly won’t make Gale happy.

And that was the entire point of their little expedition, to surprise Gale at work and make him happy.

Madge bites her lip as she puts the car back into gear, and habitually looks at Lyra’s peaceful face as she continues driving. Was she going about this all wrong?

It had been all her fault in the first place.

Yesterday, Lyra had been particularly fussy, refusing to feed neither from Madge nor her bottles, and ended up crying herself silly from hunger, despite the fact that she herself was what was stopping her from eating. After hours of being in the house alone with a miserable baby, Madge’s nerves were more than frayed. She had hardly slept the night before, and by the time Gale got home in the evening, she was past the point of total exhaustion.

“How was your day?” he had asked, dropping a quick kiss at the top of her greasy head.

“Hectic,” Madge mumbled from her spot where she lay sprawled out on the couch. “Lyra was practically crying all day.”

“Why didn’t you call my mom?” Gale asked from the mudroom. “You know she said she’d help out whenever you need some.”

“Because she just wasn’t eating!” Madge exclaimed. “And then she was crying because she was hungry! I didn’t want to bother your Mom when she couldn’t have done anything.”

“It wouldn’t have been a bother,” Gale scolds, plopping down next to her and pulling her into his arms. “I wish I could’ve been there.”

“Me too,” Madge murmured, nuzzling her face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “I always miss you when you’re at work. Lyra too.”

“I know,” Gale sighed, tightening his grip around her before letting go. “I’m going to go check on our baby girl real quick. Is dinner ready?”

Madge was suddenly struck by a flash of irritation.

“No,” she told him through gritted teeth. “I’ve been too busy with a starving baby to even think about feeding myself.”

“Ok, ok!” Gale said quickly, putting his hands up in mock-surrender. “I was just asking. I’ll help you cook.”

“Thanks,” Madge said dryly under her breath, as he went to up to Lyra’s room.

A few minutes later, he reappeared in the kitchen, holding Lyra cradled in one arm.

“Why did you bring her down?” Madge nearly shouted. “I just put her down for her nap!”

“She wasn’t sleeping when I came in,” Gale frowned. “It’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t, Gale!” Madge exclaimed. “If she breaks routine, she might start staying up all night again!”

“Relax Madge!” Gale said in a slightly raised voice. “It’s just one time. I haven’t seen her all day, let me spend some time with her, ok?”

Madge glanced down at where Lyra lay snuggled against her Father, gurgling happily, and felt the fight drain away from her.

“What do you feel like eating?” Gale asked as he sat Lyra in her high chair.

“Anything,” Madge responded with a shrug. “I’m too tired to be picky.”

“Spaghetti?” Gale suggested

“Sure.”

The rest of the meal prep goes without hitch, up until the very end, when Madge asks him to take out some garlic paste from the cabinet.

“Why?” Gale asked, scrunching his nose up. “That stuff smells gross.”

“Because it’s healthy!” Madge snapped, stirring the sauce and keeping an eye on Lyra, who had begun making her usual  _ I’m gassy  _ face.

“Christ Madge, calm down,” Gale frowned at her, flinging the cabinet open . “Here’s your precious paste.”

He let the cabinet slam shut, the sound scaring Lyra.

“You’re an incorrigible brute!” Madge shouted at him, pushing past him to pick up her now crying baby. “You think you can just come home and slam things around, and treat me like some kind of Goddamn maid?”

“What the hell __ are you talking about Madge?” Gale yelled back, drawing closer to her.

Madge isn’t sure what compelled her, maybe it’s because the stove was still on, or she was holding a now crying baby, or she had been up for over 24 hours, but when Gale raised his hand most probably clasp onto her shoulder or something to that effect, Madge flinched, and brought up an arm to to shield both her and Lyra.

Gale had immediately frozen, hand still outstretched, and for one terrible moment, the only sound in the kitchen was Lyra’s crying and the pasta water boiling.

“Madge,” Gale whispered, his expression both shocked and hurt. “Did you think I was going to  _ hit  _ you?”

“I can’t do this right now,” Madge said hoarsely, rushing past him and up to Lyra’s room. She had quieted her baby quick enough, and was even to put her to sleep without much fuss. Which left her to lie in bed for hours, waiting anxiously for Gale to join her.

He never did.

Out of sheer exhaustion, she had fallen asleep at some point during the night. She hadn’t been wakened once by Lyra, which could only mean that Gale had slept in the rocking chair in her nursery, quieting her before she could wake Madge.

When she woke up and realized all this, she nearly sobbed as she realized how terrible of a wife she was.

Even her sweet baby girl must have realized something was terribly off with her, because she was quieter than usual, and only cried for Madge when she was hungry or needed a change.

By the time it was nearing noon, Madge’s mind was made.

She needed to make things up to Gale. She had overreacted yesterday, and she needed to properly apologize to him. And she needed to do it sooner rather than later, because the guilt was quite literally eating away at her.

So she had called Hazelle, who had come more than willingly, and had laughed heartily when Madge had tearfully recounted to her what had happened last night.

“I threw a glass bottle at Asher’s head once because his sneeze had woken Gale from his nap,” Hazelle had chortled. “Trust me, my dear, you’re fine. Go make yourself pretty while I cook up something.”

So she showered for the first time in a week, straightened her hair, even put on a little make up. She still hadn’t lost her baby weight, so she put on a nice, but loose, red turtleneck, and a long black skirt that Gale said made her butt look like “an entire snack”.

Slipping on a pair of ballet flats (heels were always a huge no-no for her, despite her height), and went to get Lyra from Hazelle.

“You’re taking her with you?” Hazelle had asked uncertainly. “I thought you would want some alone time with Gale.”

“He was complaining yesterday how he doesn’t see her enough,” Madge explained. “Some alone time  _ would  _ be nice, but honestly, I’m not sure myself if I can be without Lyra yet.”

“Trust me,” Hazelle snorted. “Soon enough you’ll be begging me to take her off your hands.”

Madge had thanked Hazelle for all her help profusely before changing Lyra into a cute bunny onesie, carefully combing her dark hair.

“Oh, my beautiful baby girl,” Madge cooed. “Are you ready to see Daddy?”

But now, as she pulls into the parking lot of Gale’s office building, Madge half considers making a u-turn and going back home. What if Gale was terribly upset with her still?

Taking a shaky breath, Madge leans over to the passenger seat to pick up the container that holds Gale’s favorite meal: steak and potatoes. If her memory serves, his lunch break should have started around 5 minutes ago, which meant now was the perfect time to go in and deliver his fresh lunch.

She carries Lyra out in her seat which doubles as a baby carrier, and quickly enters the large building, needing to look at the directory to remember which floor the engineering firm Gale worked for was on. Lyra began to stir awake during the quick elevator ride, but luckily just smiled at Madge once she was up, instead of her usual crying.

Once she left the elevator, she followed the hallway signs to Gale’s office, trying to calm the nervous butterflies in her stomach. She isn’t sure what she’ll do if Gale doesn’t want to see her.

Once she reaches his office, she takes a deep, quivering breath, and stops at the receptionists desk.

“Hello,” Madge greeted politely, shifting the food container and large carrier awkwardly. “I’m here to see Gale?”

“Sure!” the woman says brightly, standing up. “I’ll take you to his office. That baby is adorable by the way! You’re his wife, Maggie, right?”

“Madge,” she corrects with a tight smile. Did Gale talk about her so little that no one here even knew her actual name? Coming here was a mistake, that was painfully obvious now.

“Oh, sorry,” the receptionist giggles nervously. “Anyways, this is his office.”

“Thank you,” Madge says quietly. Taking a deep breath, she fumbles with his food as she tries to open the door with two occupied hands.

She’s rescued from her struggle by a tall, laughing woman, that opens the door from the inside.

“Oh!” she gasps, nearly walking into Madge. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“Madge?” Gale asks, face worried as he comes up behind the shiny haired woman. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll let you two catch up,” mystery woman says coyly, stepping around Madge and winking at Gale. Madge nearly drops the food there and runs back to her car, ready to go home and sob.

“I brought you lunch,” Madge whispers, holding out the container pathetically, tears pooling in her eyes as she stares dejectedly at her shoes. Can she really fault Gale for finding comfort with a beautiful woman, when all he has to come home to is a psychotic, mess of a wife.

“Come in here,” Gale says quickly, pulling her gently by her outstretched arm, and taking Lyra’s carrier from her. Once he has her settled on top of his desk he takes the container from her hands and sets it aside, steering Madge to one of the chairs that sit across from his desk.

“Tell me what’s wrong darling,” Gale murmurs soothingly once she’s seated, kneeling in between her legs and wiping away her fallen tears.

“I-I,” Madge tries several times to apologize, but is now crying too hard to speak coherently. He was going to leave her, wasn’t he? She was going to see him once a week, to drop off Lyra while he remarried a prettier, more sane woman.

“Hey,” Gale whispers, leaning forward to kiss her on both cheeks. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it Madge.”

“ _ I’m  _ what’s wrong!” Madge wails. “Yesterday at dinner, I lost my temper at you for no reason, and today I came to surprise you with your favorite lunch and Lyra, but you were in here laughing with that pretty woman, because I’m an awful wife and-”

“Madge,” Gale interrupted angrily. “There’s nothing going on between me and any pretty woman besides you. I was just talking to Bristel about something work related. And you aren’t a terrible wife, you were just stressed yesterday. I was the idiot that just made things harder for you instead of trying to be understanding.”

“I acted like you were going to hurt me and Lyra,” Madge admits shamefully. “When I  _ know _ you never would do something so low. I know that hurt you. I’m so sorry Gale.”

Gale sighs and nods. “That did hurt,” Gale tells her slowly. “But like I said, you were stressed and exhausted. It makes you all jumpy. Plus you’re a new mother, which makes your nerves sharper than usual. It’s just biology.”

“You’re not mad?” Madge asks hesitantly, biting her lip.

“Of course not,” Gale answers vehemently. “Are you ok now?”

“No,” Madge says in a small voice. “I really am going crazy. I tore off the sun visor on our way here.”

“Why?” Gale asks incredulously

“Because I couldn’t see Lyra!” Mage exclaims, glancing at their daughter, who’s watching them with rapt attention. “And it was making me so anxious, that I pulled over and tore off the visor so I could see her from its mirror.”

Gale surprises her by laughing, and reaches over to pluck Lyra out of her carrier, holding her close to his chest.

“Wish I was there for that,” Gale says with a smirk once he’s done laughing, bouncing a happy Lyra. “I bet that crazy mom strength would have been hot to see.”

“I’m serious, Gale!” Madge says angrily. How can he just laugh at something like this.

“So am I,” he says seriously. “You just proved you’d do anything for your baby. Could I ask for a better mother to my children?”

“But I...” Madge trails off incredulously. “I’m practically a mad woman at this point. You deserve a wife that can handle functioning as a normal person.”

“Madge,” Gale says sternly, silencing her from any further deprecation. “I’m holding our daughter in my arms.  _ Our  _ daughter. We have a  _ family _ together. Of course, things won’t always be perfect or happy because that’s life. I love you. I love you, and whatever faults you see in yourself don’t matter to me in the slightest, because I know without a doubt that I’m not even  _ half _ the person you are.”

“Gale, that’s-”

“Let me finish,” Gale interrupts her. “Raising a baby is one of the hardest things to do. Period. And I’ve left you all alone to do that, and I’m sorry. I haven’t been as present as a husband or a father as I should have been, and that’s why you feel like you’re going crazy. Which is completely valid. When you don’t get any sleep and are constantly running around, of course you’ll feel like bashing someone’s head.”

“I never wanted to bash your head,” Madge giggles. “Even when I’m mad at you, I still find your head too attractive to bash.”

“Duly noted,” Gale says with a wink. “Anyways, I’ve been thinking about yesterday all day today, and I made my decision.”

“Decision?” Madge asks apprehensively. This is it, he's going to tell her he wants a divorce, or at least a seperation. 

“I quit my job just now Madge,” Gale tells her with a huge grin. “That’s why I was laughing with Bristel just now.”

“Gale!” Madge gasps. “You can’t just quit your job because there’s a baby at home!”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did?” Gale asks, raising an eyebrow. Lyra makes a loud gurgling noise, as if she agrees with her father.

“Yes, but that’s different!” Madge splutters. “How will we pay our bills?”

“Thom’s been begging me to join his new construction company for months now,” Gale tells her, bouncing a widely-smiling Lyra. “The projections look good, and I’ll be able to work from home until things are less crazy. Isn’t that right baby girl?” Lyra gurgles in response, making Gale laugh.

Madge just watches her small family for a moment. Even at such a young age, Lyra’s love for her father is evident in her eyes, from the way they so studiously follow his every movement. And then there’s Gale, so overjoyed to just play with their baby during his lunch break.

“I don’t know what I did to get a husband like you,” Madge admits in a scratchy whisper, her eyes welling up with tears once more. “I love you...so much.”

“Since when is taking care of your wife and kids a high standard for husbands?” Gale huffs, angling Lyra so he can lean forward and kiss Madge again. “I vowed to look after and protect you. I’ve been sucking at both aspects.”

“You haven’t,” Madge insists, shaking her head. “But you don’t know how happy I am that you’ll be at home more. I’ve felt so alone since I’ve quit my job.”

“Come here,” Gale growls, pulling her down towards him.

“Gale!” Madge laughs, but settles into his lap. After a few moments of tussling, Gale has both Lyra and Madge tucked into him

“I don’t want you to ever feel alone again,” Gale whispers against the top of her head. “All of this is for you two, all of  _ me _ is for you two.”

Before Madge can answer, Lyra, for the first time in her life, begins to laugh. Loud, joyful giggling, deep from her tiny stomach.

“Are you happy baby girl?” Gale asks in complete awe. “Are you happy to be with mommy and daddy?”

Lyra continues to laugh, kicking her little legs wildly in delight, and Madge smiles so widely her cheeks her hurt, her heart doing happy somersaults as she watches her precious baby laugh.

Everything was going to be ok.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love established relationship/domestic fics :)


	5. Morphling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: M
> 
> Content warning: None

GALE FINDS OUT ABOUT THE MORPHLING….

 

…. And goes to Madge.

Madge sinks down into the deep plush of her chair with a sigh. She’s been itching to read her new book all day, but today was Mother’s bath day, which always takes hours. She had wanted to get the book a week ago, but it was finally today that she convinced her anxious Father to let her venture the streets to the small District library. She can’t blame him for his worrying, not when Gale’s whipping still clings like a phantom on everyone’s conscience.

_Gale_

Her heart constricts painfully as she thinks of him. She wonders how he’s doing right now, if the morphling had helped any. The heavy tome that sits on her desk is actually there because of Gale; she had gone out and checked it out to learn more about the human body and how much damage it can sustain, and most importantly, its healing process. If her Father has taught her anything, it’s that knowledge is power, and if she can’t go out and check on Gale, the least she can do is read up on what the skin of his back is undergoing at the moment.

Leaning forward, she turns on her desk lamp and tucks her feet beneath her, gently opening the book and paging through the hefty table of contents.

She loses herself in the words of ancient physicians, and the breakthroughs they had discovered first-hand while observing their suffering patients. The content is both grotesque and intriguing, and Madge is so absorbed in her learning, that she doesn’t even notice a face staring at her from her window.

_Tap! Tap!_

Madge nearly jumps a foot in her seat, hand flying up to clutch at where her heart is beating erratically.  She has two layers of curtains draped across her windows; the first is a thin, sheer white one that lets light in, while the second is a heavier, deep gold one that conceals her from the eyes of the night. In a streak of uncharacteristic laziness, she hadn’t pulled across the golden curtains before sitting down to read, which is why she stares at Gale Hawthorne’s glaring face through a layer of lace.

Panic not yet totally receded, Madge quickly pushes away from her desk and hurries to her window to unlatch it. The moment it’s open, Gale practically falls onto her floor in an ungraceful heap.

“Hell’s teeth,” he swears quietly as he regains his breathing. Unsure of what to do or say, Madge closes the window, her pale flesh already covered in gooseflesh from the frigid winter air that had blown in alongside Gale.

“What are you _doing_?” Madge finally whispers, turning around to face him. He’s managed to sit up, and is leaning against her bed for some support, his eyes shut as the muscles of his contort in slight pain.

“You can’t be scaling houses a week after being whi-” Madge can’t finish the word. It resurfaces memories that have haunted her since that dreadful day.

“I had to see you,” Gale says through gritted teeth. Madge stares at him in bewilderment. They had never had a full-length conversation before, and now he was suddenly breaking curfew, breaking into her house, all while healing from near death-just to _see_ her?

Madge pushes all her questions down. There will be time to talk, but that’s once she’s taken care of him. Stepping towards him, she crouches down until she’s eye-level with him, and lays the back of her hand gently against his cheek. His gray eyes snap open at the contact, and for a moment, the two of them just stare at each other intently.

“You’re freezing,” Madge declares, though the way she pulls back her hand looks as if his skin is fire, not ice. “Get in the bed and warm up.”

The innuendo catches up to her too late, and Gale is already smirking-even has the gall to raise a single, thick eyebrow at her.

The last thing she needs or wants is to be made a fool by none other than Gale Hawthorne once more, so she straightens and fixes him an unimpressed look, though on the inside she’s wilting from mortification.

“If you’re not comfortable lying in a bed, you can take a blanket and sit on my chair,” Madge gestures to the chair she had nearly fallen off of moments before. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

“That’s not necessary,” he begins, but Madge ignores him, slipping on a purple cardigan over her white nightdress, and donning her satin sleep slippers. She closes her room door behind her with a quiet _click_ , and leans against it heavily.

What is she doing? This sounds like something out of one of Madge’s many fantasies that revolve around the brooding miner that’s in her room.

 _I_ _n_ my _room!_

With a shake of her head, Madge slips down the curling staircase as silently as she can. Once she’s in the kitchen, she opens the fridge door to retrieve the pitcher of milk, and the carton of ready-boiled eggs the housekeeper would prepare every week for her Father to take as a snack to his work. Lighting the gas stove, she pours some milk into a saucer, and while she lets it warm, she pulls out a plate, and takes out two, then three boiled eggs, and accompanies them with some mixed nuts. Once the milk is warmed enough, she pours it into a large mug, then stirs some honey into it. It’s a quick fix, but it’s filled with proteins and energy, which is exactly what Gale needs at the moment. Finally, she adds to pain relieving pills alongside the nuts. He had exerted himself, climbing like a madman into her room, and she’s sure that his back must be hurting him terribly.

Setting everything onto a tea tray, she quickly makes her way back up, and fumbles for a moment with the door.

Inside, Gale has only taken half of her advice. He sits at her desk, but he didn’t bring any of her blankets with him.

“What’s all this?” he asks with a frown, looking at the tray in her hands.

“You need to take some medicine,” Madge explains, setting the tray in front of him. “But you can’t do that on an empty stomach.”

“I didn’t come here to pig out,” Madge had expected him to snap, but he only sounds resigned. Tired.

“It’s not pigging,” Madge counters softly. “Please, eat. You need to keep your energy up, or the cold will make you sick, only further delaying your healing.”

“Speaking of that,” he lifts up the book, that was still open on a cross-diagram of the back. “You becoming a doctor?”

“No,” Madge snatches the book from him and clutches it to her chest, embarrassed that she was caught reading up on his particular ailment. “No more talking until you’re done eating.”

To her surprise, he doesn’t argue, just eats quietly at her desk. She sits on the edge of the bed and puts the book in her nightstand, feeling his eyes on her the entire time.

“All done,” he tells her, and sure enough, he’s finished everything in his plate and cup. He even took the two pills.

“You can talk now,” she had meant for it to come out as light and joking, but instead was stiff and awkward, much like how she felt at the moment.

He nods, looking at his knees before looking back up at her. Half of his face is drowned by the light of her desk lamp, while the other half is plunged into the darkness that fills her room. It should make him look like the devil, to have such a contrast of dark and light on his face, but it doesn’t. If anything, it’s only made her aware of how handsome his features that are visible are.

“You brought me morphling,” Gale says without preamble, his gaze unrelenting as he stared her down. “Why?”

Madge’s mouth drops open, and her already warm face further enflames.

“That’s why you’re here?” Madge hisses incredulously. “You were out in freezing temperatures, during the curfew, with a torn up back, to ask me _that?”_

“I couldn’t sneak out earlier,” Gale defends himself, crossing his arms across his chest almost petulantly. “And I heal fast.”

Half of her wants to toss him out, but she knows she can’t do that, not when it’s so dangerously cold, and the peacekeepers roam the streets like bloodhounds.

Instead, she rubs her forehead tiredly and sighs. “Does it matter why?”

“Yes,” is his immediate answer, which doesn’t really surprise her.

“It was the right thing to do,” she mumbles, unable to look at him. She wishes she knew who told him, so she can have a word with them. Gale has enough things to worry about, he doesn’t need to add her to the list of things to deal with.

“There was a blizzard,” Gale points out. “And peacekeepers _everywhere_. You could have died. Why would you take such a big risk for someone you hate?”

“I don’t hate you,” Madge corrects him angrily, before cringing. That had come out louder than expected, and for one tense moment, they both wait to hear footsteps come down the hall. When none come, she relaxes. Slightly.

“ _You_ hate _me,_ ” Madge explains coldly, though she doesn’t resent him for the fact. How could she? “Not the other way around.”

“Well fine,” Gale says, almost awkwardly. “We’ll take your logic. Why save the life of someone that hates you?”

“I,” Madge bites her lip as she tries to think of what to say next. Tell the truth? Lie? “You….mean a lot to Katniss, and she’d be devastated if you-if you had…died.”

The silence stretches between them similarly to how Gale’s long legs across her room’s floor.

“So, it was for Katniss,” he says finally. Madge just nods, and continues wringing her hands nervously.

“Thank you,” Gale says gruffly, but sincerely. “And I know it doesn’t mean much now, but I’m sorry. For how I’ve treated you. I see now how wrong my judgement was.”

“Oh, Gale,” Madge sighs as she shakes her head. “There’s nothing to forgive. I always understood why you hated me. I’m just sorry we had to be born into such an unforgiving, and divided world.”

“Yeah,” Gale mumbles, eyes downcast. He’s subdued, nothing like the blazing righteousness he had been a few minutes ago when he asked her why she saved him.

“I should go,” Gale says, standing up, grimacing as he straightens his back.

Madge immediately jumps up. “You can’t go! If you don’t freeze, you’ll be caught by Peacekeepers!”

“My body runs on a high temperature,” Gale assures her, slowly shrugging his coat on, wincing all the while. “And I know all the back roads. I can avoid those bastards.”

“Please,” Madge pleads, her eyes filling with tears, uncaring how pathetic she must look and sound. She can’t bear to send him out there into the harsh winter night, not while he’s injured and monsters prowl for his blood.

“Whoa there,” Gale looks uncertain at the sight of her tears, and ends up reaching out to pat her once, and awkwardly, on her shoulder. “I really can’t stay Under-Madge,” he corrects himself mid-sentence. “I owe you enough as it is.”

Madge shakes her head vehemently, and steps in front of the window, acting as a physical barrier. “You don’t owe me _anything_.”

Gale sighs tiredly, and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Madge, I do-“

“No, you don’t,” Madge interrupts him, squaring her shoulders. Be brave, be brave like Katniss. “You don’t owe me anything, because I did it out of love.”

He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I know you and Katniss are friends and all but I’m separate from that fact.”

“No,” Madge actually manages to chuckle through her tears at his misunderstanding. “I love _you_.”

It’s Gale’s turn for his jaw to drop, and for a moment, he just gapes at her. As Madge prepares herself for the imminent rejection, she allows herself to be stolen away by his silver eyes for the last time.

But then, something shifts in Gale, and that familiar fire that Madge has seen aflame within him for so many years, is rekindled once more, but never has she seen his eyes so alight.

He closes the distance between them in one long stride, and takes her face into his large, rough hands.

“Say that again,” Gale breaths. Madge can smell the honey on his tongue.

This must be a dream. The setting is too perfect: a purple snowy sky, a white nightgown, the warm glow of a desk lamp, and a boy who smelled of honey.

“I love you,” Madge repeats, looking at him through her eyelashes. She’s never felt braver than she does in this moment. “Since I was 13. It’s only been you.”

“Why?” Gale whispers, but there’s something like raw awe in his eyes. “You-you could have any man in the District.”

“No man can set me ablaze with just a single glance like you can,” Madge answers him honestly, her hands coming up to rest against his broad chest. The fabric of his shirt is both soft and rough beneath her palms.

Gale groans, and pulls her closer to him, before dipping his head down to press his lips against hers.

His mouth is hot and heavy against hers, yet he keeps the kiss gentle, almost painfully so, pulling back only to kiss her again. He kisses her until she wonders if one can grow made from the delirium of happiness, because she feels as if she’s floating.

She makes a soft sound of protest when he finally pulls away, her lips tingling from what he has done to them.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, looking rather annoyed. “Stupid back won’t let me bend over long.”

“Oh!” Madge gasps. In the heat of her confession, she had forgotten about his injured back. Cursing her short stature, she quickly steps away from him and pulls a blanket from her bed.

“Take my bed please,” she says to him apologetically. “I’ll sleep on the ground.”

“I’m not gonna make you sleep on the ground,” Gale tells her with a roll of his eyes. He tries to take the blanket from her, but she maintains a firm grip on it.

“Madge,” he says warningly, but Madge does not relent.

“You’re hurt,” she explains patiently. “And the hard floor won’t help any. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

He let’s go of the blanket with a frustrated exhale. “So that’s it?” he demands, looking almost petulant as he glares at her. “Just tell me you love me, and then go to sleep?”

“Well I kissed you too,” Madge squeaks, unable to look at him. The truth is, she can’t talk any further, because she knows it will just be ‘I’m sorry, I’m in love with your best friend’. She’s just had her first-and most probably last, kiss, and she doesn’t want to ruin her happy mood.

“And then what?” Gale presses on. “You’ll just let me leave from the window like how I came, everything forgotten?”

“What do you want from me?” Madge snaps, holding the blanket to her chest protectively. Gale has effectively ruined her high. “In case you hadn’t noticed _I’m_ not the one in love with someone else here Gale. Whatever happens next is entirely up to you.”

“I’ve bared my soul to you,” Madge continues bitterly, shaking out the blanket so she can spread it out. “If anyone will be doing any forgetting, it’ll be _you_.”

Gale grabs her wrist and pulls her to him, wrapping his arms around her and letting them both fall onto her bed on their sides.

She’s effectively trapped, and what’s worse is that her face is right across from his, their noses just a breath apart, so she can’t even look anywhere but him.

“I don’t want to forget this,” Gale tells her huskily. Madge stops trying to squirm out of his grasp to look into his eyes. They’re nearly black.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Gale confesses. “Every single dream I’ve had since they told me it was you that saved me, has been about you. It’s as if years of want that I had so deeply repressed, just broke past the flood gates.”

“W-what?” Madge stutters, unsure if she’s actually hearing him correctly.

“You’re so beautiful Madge,” Gale groans, his one hand running up and down the curve of her hip. “Maybe that’s why I was such an asshole to only you. I saw someone I wanted, and couldn’t have.”

This time Madge is the one who kisses him. This kiss is much quicker, desperate than their first, which had been soft and reassuring. Madge actually gasps when his tongue is suddenly brushing against hers; the feeling is so foreign-so _wrong_ , but makes her feel so _so_ good.

Madge moans into his mouth, and Gale rolls them over so that he’s on top of her. He tries to keep his weight off of her, but she knows that must strain his back, and besides, she wants every inch of her skin to be touching every inch of his, so she pulls him down, and it’s him who groans when her breasts push against his chest.

“God Madge,” Gale pants, moving his mouth away to kiss down her cheek, then jaw, to her neck. “You’re so pretty.” She giggles as he begins to attack her neck with a flurry of kisses-her skin is sensitive there.

He pulls away to mock-glare at her. “Something funny?”

Since her senses are no longer assaulted by Gale’s superb kissing skills, she’s able to take in the situation with a clearer head, most importantly: the hard bulge she feels against her stomach.

“Nothing,” Madge says shyly, suddenly unable to look at him, and hyperaware of the wet heat between her own two legs. “We should probably stop, though.”

Gale immediately gets off her. “Sorry,” he apologizes, running a sheepish hand through his hair. “I got uh, carried away.”

“It wasn’t just you,” Madge assures him, adjusting the neckline of her nightgown, which had been pulled to a scandalously low spot. “I have a spare toothbrush in my bathroom, if you’d like to use it?”

So that’s how she ends up side by side with Gale, as they both brush their teeth in her bathroom. The domesticity of the moment is too much for Madge, and she skips her usual nighttime routing and opts for just splashing her face with some water and running a quick comb through her hair. Gale had certainly tangled it.

By the time she leaves the bathroom, Gale is already in her bed, and her heart melts at the sight.

She goes to where she had discarded the blanket, and is straightening it, when Gale makes a noise of frustration.

“My tongue was in your mouth five minutes ago, why are you acting all shy about sharing a bed?” he growls.

Madge gives him as stern of an expression she can make. “It’s precisely because of that we can’t sleep together.”

“We’re just going to sleep Madge,” Gale tells her impatiently. “Unless,” his face becomes wicked. “You can’t keep your hands off of me, princess?”

Madge glares at him. “I’m not easy Gale. I won’t share a bed with you if you say anything vulgar.”

“No,” Gale agrees with a grin. “You’re not easy at all.”

He doesn’t pressure her further to join him, which is why she decides to. Besides, she trusts Gale. She knows he would never do anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

Once she’s settled, he turns so that he’s facing her.

“Can I hold you?” he whispers. “Or is that too forward?”

“Shut up,” Madge grumbles, but scoots into his arms regardless.

Cheek against his heart, Madge falls asleep, safe, warm, and totally and utterly happy in his arms.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really fun to write, tehehe


	6. Thom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: G
> 
> Content warning: None. Just my lame attempt at humor

“Thanks so much for agreeing to meet up with me again,” Madge says thankfully as Thom slides into the booth across from her.

“No problemo, chica,” he responds with a wink, for some reason adopting a Mexican accent without any prompting. “But I gotta say this now,” he adds, back to an American accent. “If me and Delly were looking for a threesome, it’d have to be with a brunette since-”

“That’s not why I wanted to have lunch!” Madge quickly assures him, suddenly wondering if this was a good idea. Thom was a great guy, Gale’s best friend, but he was also a little….much.

“I…actually need some advice,” Madge admits, fingering the worn edges of the ancient menu in front of her. “About Gale.”

“Oh God,” Thom says tiredly, dramatically shaking his head. “Which one?”

“What?” Madge asks, totally at a loss.

 “Which brother,” Thom says quietly, looking at her in a pained way. “Vick or Rory?”

“I-what are you implying?” Madge nearly shouts, but sees the waitress coming towards their table from the corner of her eye.

“What can I get y’all?” the silver haired woman drawls, lazily hovering her pen over her notepad.

“I’ll have number 7, with a side of waffles, also I’d like orange juice with extra sugar, and if you have any muffins that are _fresh_ I’ll have two of those as well,” Thom orders easily, as if he had forgotten what they had been talking about just moments prior.

“And you doll?” the waitress-Barb- asks Madge, not even flinching at Thom’s list of demands.

“Just a cup of coffee,” Madge orders quietly. Barb clicks her pen closed and nods, walking back from the direction she came from.

“It must have been Rory, Vick is still too young,” Thom concludes. “So, who seduced who?”

“I did not sleep with any of Gale’s brothers!” Madge snaps, face flushing from the accusation. “For God’s sake, I like _Gale_ , and I called you because I thought maybe, since I don’t know, you’re his best friend, you could give me some…pointers.”

“Ohhhhhh,” Thom says in great relief. “That makes a lot of sense. I mean Rory is just 20, that’s really cutting it close, you know?”

Madge just sighs, and rubs at her eyes tiredly. She’s been feeling the beginning symptoms of a cold for a few days now, and one of their killer headaches is starting to creep in.

“Do _not_ worry about a thing sugarlips,” Thom assures her confidently. “I have _just_ the scheme that’ll have Gale eating right out of your-”

“Don’t!” Madge interrupts, panicked.

“I was going to say palm! God, everyone is dirty minded these days!” Thom huffs, looking scandalized for a moment before slipping back into his wicked expression. “So, what are two things Gale loves more than anything?”

_Solitude and brooding?_

“His truck and nature!” Thom exclaims. Madge has to admit, it’s a fair point.

“What are you suggesting?” Madge asks, starting to feel a bit better about this whole situation. Maybe Thom isn’t totally hopeless…

“We do this. You go into the woods. Find a bee hive, and smash it with a baseball bat. Now this is the hard part, you have to outrun the swarm while you snatch up the Queen and take it to his truck. You hide her in the glove compartment, and boom! Gale has a beehive in his truck- instant honey, whenever he wants!”

Madge can’t respond. How can she?

“There is a problem though,” Thom admits with a frown. “I’m only like…40% certain bees live in the woods.”

Madge takes it back. She doesn’t care how “sweet” or “nice” he is, Thom is, without doubt, one of the dumbest people she has _ever_ met, and at the moment, she’d pay someone to take a baseball bat and smash _her_ head for thinking this was a good idea.

“What’re you two doing here?”

_Why does God hate me?_

There standing in front of their dimly booth was none other than the infamous Gale Hawthorne himself, complete with his trademark scowl.

“Whaaaaassup!” Thom imitates the annoying orange as way of greeting, as if it’s still 2012. “Me and Madgey here were-”

“Planning a romantic evening for him and Delly!” Madge quickly cuts in, not trusting whatever Thom was about to say. “Just a way for Thom to show how much he cares.”

Gale considers this for a moment, before sliding into the booth next to Madge, nearly making her squeak as his thigh came in contact with hers. “What have you come up with so far?

_Maybe this lunch can still be salvaged…._

“Not much,” Madge answers before Thom opens his loud and idiotic mouth. “Since you’re here, how would you let a girl know you love her a lot?”

Madge was nearly giddy as she watched Gale ponder over her question. She would just take his answer and flip it to fit their relationship!

Or lack of thereof…

“I know,” Gale says with a snap of his large, slender, beautiful fingers…

_Focus, Madge!_

“I found a beehive in the yard the other day, I’d give her a jar of its honey.”

_“Son of a bitch.”_

Gale looks at her in shock and Thom in smug giddiness.

“Excuse me?” Gale asks, sounding halfway offended, but mostly just confused.

“Madge hates nature,” Thom explains with a grin she wants to smack of his face.

“I do not,” Madge growls at him. To Gale, she turns and gives him a weak smile. “I just think I’m starting to develop a cold. I should probably go before I infect you all.” 

“You ok?” Gale frowns as he stares at her intently.

“Yup,” Madge answers quickly, diverting her eyes from his heavy gaze. Boys were beyond stupid, she saw that now, but goddamn if she wasn’t insanely in love with the one next to her.

Gale slides out and lets her leave. Once she reaches the apartment she and Katniss share, she strips down to her underwear, has a cup of extra strength nighttime Theraflu, and falls into a deep, almost comatose like, sleep.

It’s well into the night when she finally wakes up. Still groggy, she wanders into the living room area in her underwear, where Katniss sits in front of their television with a bowl of her dinner. Knowing her, it’s probably something inane like squirrel stew.

“Gale dropped something off for you,” Katniss tells her without removing her eyes from the screen. Madge pauses in the act of scratching her hind to stare at her best friend incredulously.

“What?” Madge asks dumbly.

“Jar of honey,” Katniss answers. She finally looks over at her. “Said it would help with the cold.”

“He did?” Madge asks, chest filling with something so light, she was surprised her feet hadn’t left the ground.

“Yeah,” Katniss scoffs. “Covered in bee stings too. Boys are idiots.”

“Yeah,” Madge echoes, walking into the kitchen where a jar of golden honey sits. “They are.”

_But this one is_ my _idiot_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're waiting for an update on my other fics, I am SO sorry, but I'm super busy with college, and just wrote this short little one shot as a way of de-stressing.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed!


	7. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None.

 

 

                                                                               

 

_February 14, 1865_

_Barnwell, South Carolina_

 

His riffle loaded, stomach filled, and coat buttoned, there was nothing for Gale to do but leave.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to leave?” Miss. Undersee asks him quietly, wringing her hands anxiously in front of her.

They’re standing on her porch, as the cool winter winds of South Carolina blow through them.

Gale tips his head. “I need to get back to my platoon, Miss, and it’s better to leave while I got the cover of night.” Gale didn’t add that he’s more than taken advantage of her southern hospitality.

“But you haven’t fully healed,” Miss. Undersee practically whines, blue eyes wide with worry as they dart down to his ribs. “And what if your platoon’s relocated? It’s been two months, nearly, since you last saw them anyhow.”

Two months ago. When his platoon had been ambushed by the Confederates, and Gale had been left to die while his fellow soldiers were forced to retreat. Two months ago, when Miss. Undersee found him on her way to town and nursed him back to health.

“The Union’s reclaimed Charleston, Miss,” Gale reminds her gently. “I reckon there are only a few months till this damn war is over. I’ll be fine.”

He remembers waking up in a bright room with light linens on the bed, with Miss. Undersee tending to his wounds. He had thought he was in some divine hospital, with Miss. Undersee an angel tending to him so that he could enter heaven undisturbed.

The southern lilt of her words had shaken him out of his haze, and into an angry stupor.

He was a man loyal to the Union, through and through. To his knowledge, at least three of his ancestors had been enslaved, and he’d rather die than have a confederate woman touch him.

But with her infinite patience and kindness, Miss. Undersee was able to convince him that though she was born in the south, she was an abolitionist at heart- a Union Gal with no doubts, even if she said “y’all” and drank cold (?) tea.

Now, as he stood to go, Gale found him strangely rooted to where he stood in front of her. He told himself he was just being chivalrous in his worry; Miss.Undersee’s Father had gone out to Charleston about a year ago, and for unknown reasons, had never returned, leaving Miss. Undersee and her sickly mother to fend for themselves.

“You’ll be alright?” Gale asks gruffly, hating to imagine just what her neighbors could do when they find out Miss. Undersee is alone. To his knowledge she kept up the charade that her Father had caught whatever illness her Mother had, but soon enough doubt would creep into the townsfolk, exposing her vulnerability.

Miss. Undersee looks at him quizzically. “You should be worrying about yourself, Mr. Hawthorne. I’m not the one walking into a warzone.”

“Entire country is a warzone,” Gale mutters darkly, glancing out into the stretch of trees in front of him. He missed Philadelphia and his family terribly, but he had grown to quite admire the quiet beauty of South Carolina. He glances back at her, and ignores the tightness in his chest. Must be from the cold. “Keep the doors locked, curtains drawn, and take the dog with you whenever you go to town. You remember how to use that gun I showed you?”

Miss. Undersee nods empathetically. “I’ll be fine, promise.”

Gale takes a deep breath and adjusts the shoulder strap of his rifle. “Well then…”

Miss. Undersee extends her hand to him, but shyly, so that her hand almost dangles in front of him.

“I can’t say how these two months have been for you,” Miss. Undersee tells him softly, cheeks red and eyes downcast. “But meeting you has changed my life. I’ll keep you in my prayers, and hope you reach your family back safely.”

Gale is almost hesitant as he brings his hand up, because he knows once he shakes her hand it will be over. But as his fingers close around her hand, the softness of her skin sparks the gentlest of epiphanies within his mind. Miss. Undersee looks up at him in surprise, probably at how firmly he clutches her hand-but Gale’s mind is made.

“Miss. Undersee,” he says huskily. “These past two months, I have been nearly overwhelmed by your kindness. I am alive because of you and God only. When the war is over, I wish to return to you, if you’ll allow it.”

Her pink lips part in surprise, as rogue stains her cheeks. He doesn't think he'll ever forget the beauty of her face.

“I’ll allow it,” she whispers as delicately as a spring breeze.

That’s all he needs to hear to tug her towards him and capture her lips with his. How many times has he fantasized doing this these past two months? And how is it that none of his fantasies were anywhere near accurate in how soft and sweet she really was?

He tries to keep it sweet; he does not wish for their first kiss to be remembered as desperate, so pulls back before he loses himself entirely to her essence.

“I’ll be back,” he promises as he stares down at her fondly.

“I’ll be waiting,” Madge promises back, pulling him down for another kiss.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally gonna be Paris 1946 but trust me-this came out a LOT better. Happy Valentines day!!


	8. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: G
> 
> Content warning: None

Gale sat slumped at the kitchen table, face buried in his hands as he tried desperately to think a way out of this hole he and his family had been thrown into.

It had been a little over 48 hours since his Ma had passed away. Eight hours since her funeral. 50 hours since he last slept.

The sickest part of this cruel joke was that he hardly had any time to grieve the loss of his last remaining parent, whom he had loved endlessly, because he was consumed by the unrelenting fear of having his three younger siblings stolen from him.

What was he supposed to tell CPS if-when they showed up at their doorstep? How could he, a 20 year old mechanic with no college education argue that he could take care of a 6 year old little girl, and two teenage boys?

The money would be tight-they’d have to move into a one bedroom apartment probably, but if Rory took on a part time job and Posy was pulled out of her dance class, they could make it work.

But would the fucking system believe that?

He hears a whimper come from down the hall, and sighs. Posy is just a baby, crying for her Ma in her sleep, she can’t survive foster care. Then there was Vick, who was too gullible and trusting for his own good. Even Rory, who liked to walk around thinking he was the shit, would be unable to make it in such a dire environment.

His musings of despair are interrupted by a frantic knock on the door. Gale glances at the clock and frowns. Who on Earth was stopping by this late to pay their condolences?

More than annoyed, Gale stalks over to the door and flings it open, ready to bark in the visitor’s face.

All plans of barking disappear at the snow-caked sight of Madge Undersee standing in front of him.

Madge was Katniss’s best friend, and a piano player and Posy’s dance studio. Gale steered clear of her-he had no interest in becoming buddy-buddy with the Mayor’s daughter when paying the rent was a struggle every month, so he was more than confused to see her now, in the middle of a blizzard, on the eve of his Mother’s passing.

Before he can say anything, though, Madge takes him by surprise once more.

“Marry me.”

Gale blinks and shakes his head. It’s the lack of sleep, he concludes, paired with the grief, that has him losing his goddamn mind, because he just hallucinated Madge Undersee proposing to him.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Madge asks self-consciously.

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, clearing his throat. “What did you just say?”

Madge’s bravado is lost and she looks down at her snow-covered boots. “I think you should marry me.”

“Wha-” Gale garbles, before shutting his eyes tightly. Couldn’t life let him handle one fucking hurdle at a time?

“I can get a job at Daddy’s office, and land myself a decent enough paycheck that if I was your wife, the combined income would be enough that you wouldn’t have to lose either three of your siblings.”

Gale’s eyes snap open at her words, and looks at her closer than he ever has. Her head is covered by a purple hat, but the hair that tumbles out of it is blonde and gently curling, sprinkled with white snowflakes. Her face is heart shaped, and she has large, innocent looking eyes.

“It’s freezing,” is all Gale says, stepping aside so that she can step inside. She does so, but stands in the foyer shyly, hands clasped tightly in front of her.

Once he has the door shut, he looks at her once more with his arms crossed against his chest. He can tell she’s intimidated by him, especially with the height difference of over a foot between them, but he can’t let this pass without careful scrutiny.

“What’s in it for you?” Gale asks directly, carefully gauging her reaction.

She nods, as if she had been expecting this. “I know Posy personally, and I’d hate for her to be torn from her family. But as for personal gain, if I was married, Daddy won’t be able to ship me off to college like how he wants, and I’ll get to stay here and continue doing what I love.”

“You’ll be working for your Dad, not your old job anymore,” Gale points out immediately.

Madge shrugs. “I can work there on the weekends. Besides, I wouldn’t mind the extra time with Daddy.”

Gale scrutinizes her closely, before coming to a decision.

“No.”

“Don’t you want to protect your family?” Madge asks desperately.

“I don’t accept charity,” Gale snarls. “My family won’t be your little social work case.”

“This isn’t charity!” Madge argues. “I swear, this is something I really want to do and-”

“Miss. Undersee?”

The soft voice silences both of them, and they look over to see Posy’s tear streaked face, her rag doll clutched tightly in her hand.

“Hi Posy,” Madge greets sadly.

Posy drops the doll and sprints towards her teacher, launching herself into her arms.

Madge, to his surprise, is able to catch her easily, and even pulls her into a tight embrace as Posy sobs into hair.

“I know,” Madge soothes as Posy mumbles nonsensical words. She takes him by surprise again when he sees her own eyes are wet. “I know, love.”

Gale watches, feeling both useless and relieved as Madge is able to calm Posy back down to a calmer state, and he can finally take Posy from her arms to tuck back into bed.

He’s making his way back to the living room, when Rory and Vick’s room’s door is suddenly opened. Standing in the doorway is Rory, and Gale is able to tell immediately that his brother hasn’t been able to sleep either.

“Don’t fuck this up,” is all he says. Gale nods.

Once he’s back in Madge’s sight, she immediately gets up from her spot on the couch and begins talking. “Look I know I’ve made a mess of this all, but the thing is, my Mom died when I was young, too, and I-”

“I’ll do it,” Gale interrupts her. “I’ll marry you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: This one shot is now a separate fic, "The Marriage Contract".


	10. Neither Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: M
> 
> Content warning: Cheating. Angst. No happy ending.

Her Father had once told her she was too observant for her own good.

She had taken it as a compliment, a testament to her quiet yet attentive personality, and had jokingly told him to watch out, or she’d decipher all his secretes.

Now though, collapsed in the middle of the living room floor, Madge wishes she was anything but, so she could have missed all the signs and pretend it wasn’t what it looked like.

It had all started about two weeks ago, when Katniss and her longtime boyfriend, Peeta Mellark had broken up. Madge was unsure about the reason, but she knew it had something to do with Peeta’s mother. All Madge knew for sure was that the split had left Katniss devastated.

And yet, when Gale told her the news that night, Madge’s initial gut reaction had been…dread.

She had pushed it aside with worry for her childhood friend. In the beginning days of the breakup, Katniss isolated herself almost totally, only letting Prim into her apartment.

Grudgingly, Katniss returned to work, and began to allow Madge and Gale to visit her. Because Madge’s teaching job required waking up early, it lacked the flexibility Gale had by being self-employed at his own garage, Madge would usually leave her apartment before him, and Gale would return back home a few hours later, usually glum at being unable to cheer Katniss up.

But then, as the days went on, Gale began to return later and later. At first, Madge just wrote it off as two best friends spending time with each other, a time where half of them was going through an emotional roller coaster.

A full week and a half after the break up, Madge decided to stay at Katniss’s, despite it being Wednesday, and she still had essays to grade. She told herself that Gale’s persistence for her to leave was just him worried about her not getting enough sleep. She told herself that the sudden stifling environment in the apartment was just a figment of her imagination.

Today, Madge does not force her invite to stay longer at Katniss’s.

She was in the middle of dusting the coffee table, when her phone tucked into her backside pocket buzzes.

It’s a text from Delly. An attachment, to be more accurate.

Katniss’s apartment is on the ground floor, and with the curtains drawn, any passerby can see what’s happening inside.

Delly was the particular passerby that saw Gale and Katniss kissing.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been on the floor. Long enough for her sobs to become violent trembling as she has run out of tears. Long enough for the side she’s laying on the become completely numb. Long enough to feel as if her chest has fallen in on itself.

She drags her left hand so that it sits in front of her face. The glint off her diamond ring mocks her.

Why had he bothered marrying her, when 10 years later, he was still in love with Katniss? How pathetic of a joke had he seen her as, to let her believe he loved her back, when she was nothing but a placeholder while he waited for his true love?

Years of memories flash before her eyes: their first date at the roller rink, their first kiss during a summer picnic, losing her virginity to him on the hood of his car, the way he smiled at her as she walked down the aisle, his arm around her as they stared at their newly bought home. She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to feel anything remotely like happiness ever again.

She doesn’t even bother getting up as she vomits right onto the carpet. It doesn’t matter. Nothing does. Madge had given Gale her entire heart and he had tossed it away like a piece of rubbish.

She’s never wanted to die more.

She pushes herself into a sitting position so that she can rock back and forth as she clutches wildly at her scalp. Where is she to go? What is she to do? She’s never felt more alone. One more, she wishes she could just die.

Maybe she was just the kind of person that wasn’t made to be loved.

She’s almost robotic in her movements as she gets up to go the kitchen, stumbling more than once has she forces her numb body to move. She needs to feel something other than soul crushing grief that’s threatening to consume her more than it already has.

Flinging open the cupboard housing their finest China, Madge feels detached as she smashes each and every plate and bowl with an inhuman scream. She doesn’t stop when she reaches the glasses. Once she’s broken every glass made object in the room, the sorrow-turned-rage has only grown, so she falls to her knees and begins smashing the broken pieces into even smaller ones with her bare hands.

That’s all she was-pathetic fucking Madge Undersee, whose husband cheated on her with her best friend. Madge, the pathetic fucking cunt who was never once loved back by the only man she’s ever loved.

Her last thought cuts the anger short, and she’s just left with emptiness, blood, and the stinging in her hands and knees.

There is a crimson smear of blood on her goodbye note that will eventually brown as it suffocates with oxygen, accenting her words with both violence and virtue. The note is placed in the middle of the kitchen floor; a small lifeboat amongst a sea of blood and glaciers of glass.

It has only two lines:

_You killed me. You killed me, while my back was turned._

_For this, I'll never forgive you._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...I'm a masochist. Also, this is how I cope with my own angst, WRITING angst :/


	11. Neither Never 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of last chapter

Gale feels…. off, as he makes the drive back to his and Madge’s place.

He can’t pinpoint what it is that’s making his hands tremble, but the feeling only worsens when he pulls into the driveway and finds every light in their three-level home off.

Madge _always_ left the porchlight on.

_Get a fucking grip, Hawthorne._

With a deep breath, Gale gets out of his truck and makes his way to the door, and pauses, watching as his large hand trembles around the door handle.

What the fuck is wrong with him tonight? Everything was fine. He was standing in front of his paid off house, complete with the wrap around porch and white picket fence, and his beautiful wife lay waiting on their bed for him.

Pushing open the door, Gale is immediately affronted with the stench of something acidic smelling, like vomit.

“Madge?” Gale calls quietly, unsure if she’s asleep. He knows he wouldn’t be able to sleep if the house smelt like this.

When he receives no reply, he walks further into the house, and is about to throw his light coat onto the couch, when he catches sight of a puddle of vomit on the off-white carpet of the living room.

“Madge?” Gale calls again, this time louder and with slight panic. Madge would never make a mess without cleaning it.

Figuring she must be in the bathroom sick, Gale heads to the kitchen to get her some medicine.

Flipping on the kitchen light switch was like flipping on a scene from his most sinister nightmare.

There’s broken glass _everywhere_ , and a lot of it is stained with what looks like dried blood.

“MADGE!” Gale shouts, never feeling more scared in his entire life. He sprints up the stairs, but finds both their bed and bath as sickeningly empty as the rest of the house.

At this point he can barely breathe, and his hands are no longer the only part of him that’s shaking: he’s tremoring violently all over. Suddenly, he’s aware that his wife’s life may very well be in true danger, and the thought nearly makes him rip off his skin in fear.

“Madge baby, where are you?” Gale cries, rushing back down the stairs into the kitchen as his tears nearly blind him. His mind is filled with thoughts of home invasions, kidnapping, murder, and everything else a husband never wants to imagine his wife in.

Somehow through his panic, he see’s something he overlooked in his initial horror: a piece of paper.

Dropping to his knees, and ignoring how the glass cuts into his flesh, Gale is practically hyperventilating as he picks the note up.

_You killed me. You killed me, while my back was turned._

_For this, I’ll never forgive you._

Gale reads it once. Then twice. Then four more times, his feelings of fear and panic only increasing with each read. It was Madge’s handwriting no doubt, but he had no idea what she was saying.

Then he looks up and sees Madge’s phone lying just a foot away from him. Unable to decipher what the note means, Gale lurches for her phone, praying to every God out there that there’s an actual clue in it.

As he puts in her passcode, he’s immediately taken to a text conversation with Delly.

And sees a picture of him and Katniss kissing.

Fuck _Fuck FUCK!_

Gale feels like snapping Delly’s cunt neck, and then his own. Suddenly Madge’s note clicks into place.

He heaves for breath as he falls to his side, broken glass embedding itself into his flesh.

He had done this to her.

She had left him.

He had killed her.

She had left him.

He had cheated on her.

She had found out.

He had to get her back.

She had left him.

He had to get her back, or he’d die too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TessiePessie: "I NEED to know the reaction of Gale because I am a masochist too and because he deserve the tormeting. Fucking asshole"
> 
> Hope this satisfied!
> 
> Nursekelly0429: " I am requesting a Bad Ass Madge story where she puts Gale in his place and makes him grovel! (At some point down the line.) Like she catches him cheating, breaks it off with him, he realizes that she was the one all along. But they still end up together, happy endings, rainbows and unicorns."
> 
> Got about half of that in this chapter, the rest I'll try to get in the next part!
> 
> If you'd like to request a prompt for me to write, you can do that here or on Tumblr! :)


	12. Neither Never 3

“Well, shit,” Johanna smirks when she opens the door. “Look what the fucking cat brought in.”

“Hey,” Madge says throatily, not yet recovered from her excessive crying. For the past few hours, she’s been running on autopilot, and now that the first phase of her intricate plan has gone into phase, she’s so exhausted, she could fall asleep right then and there. “I need a favor.”

Johanna leans against her door frame and crosses her arms, though she does look intrigued. “And why the hell should I help you?”

Madge takes a deep breath before answering.

“Because Gale dumped you to be with me. And now he’s cheated on me to be with Katniss.”

 

* * *

 

Driver’s license: gone

Passport: gone

Cash: gone

Phone: at home

Car: at home

It was these five clues that told Gale that not only was alive, but still had enough sense of mind to be able to plot.

It was clear that she did not want to be found, not by the tracking device every phone had, or the licence plate on her silver acura.

Gale just had to outsmart her--which was a task nearing impossible, but he couldn’t give up on his wife, not when she was his entire life.

He gets up from the floor of their once shared closet and returns the kitchen which now houses Gale’s blood too, and picks up her phone.

_Who would Madge never expect me to call?_

The phone dial rings three times before the recipient picks up.

“Hello?” Peeta’s groggy voice answers him. Gale’s eyes dart to the oven clock. It’s a quarter past 3 a.m.

“This is all your fucking fault,” Gale seethes into the phone, gripping the counter with one hand so tightly his dark knuckles have turned white.

“Gale?” Peeta asks, suddenly sounding a lot more awake.

“Because you couldn’t fucking man up and tell your mom to stop being such a bitch, you just left Katniss which has emotionally destroyed her, and you know what she did? She _kissed_ me because she thought I was the only man that would never leave her, even though she knows I don’t love her, and guess what FUCKING else? _Madge_ saw!”

“Shit,” Peeta curses quietly. “Is Madge OK?”

“I don’t know,” Gale moans, his anger morphing back into despair. “I-I came back home to see a bunch of bloody, broken glass in the kitchen, and I looked around and she’s taken her passport and some cash. She just left...she just….left me.”

“Gale, listen to me,” Peeta says calmly. “I’ll find Madge, and I’ll explain this was just a big understanding, ok?”

“Ok,” Gale sniffles, beyond the point of caring how weak he sounds in front of Dough Boy.

“It _was_ just a misunderstanding, right?” Peeta asks hesitantly. “You didn’t...lead Katniss on into thinking you _wanted_ to kiss her?”

Gale wants to immediately scream _no!_ But, the word gets caught in his throat.

“You son of a bitch,” Peeta curses. “You thought you could just blame this on me? You broke Madge’s heart, you piece of shit!”

“It wasn’t like that!” Gale shouts, finally regaining his voice, he’s shaking so violently that he can’t even see clearly. “ _Yes_ , I could feel something...not right, growing on Katniss’s side, but I only let it grow because I-I just, I just wanted to know what could have been! I never once thought of leaving Madge for her!”

“Well it’s a good thing Madge did leave you!” Peeta shouts right back. “For you to even play around with the idea of another woman?” Peeta scoffs. “You’re a piece of shit.”

The phone goes dead.

So does another part of Gale.

 

* * *

 

“Wow,” Johanna comments when she opens the bathroom door. “This is a new level of pathetic.”

Madge doesn’t give her an answer, just further ducks her head into her arms to block out the now on light.

For the past three days she’s more or less lived in Johanna’s bathtub, living off of alcohol and the random fruit Johanna would toss at her when she was feeling generous.

“So,” Johanna begins as she takes off her pants to sit on the toilet. “You gonna pull a Mrs. Undersee and die from OD, or are you going to fucking get over yourself?”

Madge lifts her head up enough to glare at Johanna. Had it not been for the fact that Madge knew Johanna’s own mother had died from alcoholism, she would have smashed the glass bottle in her hand over her head.

“I mean c’mon,” Johanna scoffs as she steadily pees. “Is he really a piece of dick you want to die over? Looking back, I don’t even know what I was thinking, and before you say it’s never too big-less is more.”

Madge groans. Gale’s penis is quite possibly the last topic she wants to talk about.

Madge hears the toilet flush and then the stream of water as Johanna washes her hands. She’s fully expecting her to just shut off the light and walk out, when Johanna speaks up.

“I want you to come in the living room,” Johanna says in an uncharacteristically even voice. “If you don’t, I’ll burn this entire apartment down, I don’t give a fuck.”

Madge has no doubt that Johanna really would set everything ablaze if she so felt like it, so she forces her muscles to move as she climbs out of the bathtub, feeling physically worse than she ever has in her entire life.

She drags her feet to the living room, where in the middle stands Johanna, with her arms crossed.

“I gave you three days,” Johanna begins. “Three days to whine and bitch as much as you wanted. Now you have to make a decision-what are you going to do now?”

Madge bites her lip and looks down at her feet in shame.

“I don’t know,” Madge admits in a tiny voice. “It feels like my life is just...over.”

Johanna suddenly charges at her, and Madge doesn’t even have time to brace herself before she’s tackled roughly to the ground.

With a gasp, the air is knocked out of her lungs as Johanna sits atop of her waist. Before she’s regained her breathing, Johanna’s hands clasp tightly around her neck-choking her.

“Is this what you want?” Johanna snarls, as Madge splutters and twitches, desperate for air. “Do you want to die?”

Black spots appear before her vision as she somehow shakes her head no. Immediately, Johanna releases her death grip, and Madge pitifully swallows as big of gulps of airs she can manage through her flattened wind pipes.

“That’s what I thought,” Johanna says, though oddly enough, her voice is kind. “Gale is a fucking moron Madge, you can only go up from here.”

“You’re right,” Madge croaks, her vision finally clearing enough for her to see Johanna clearly. “Thank you, Johanna, I needed this.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me,” Johanna rolls her eyes as she gets off of her, though she does offer her a hand to help her up.

 

* * *

 

 _Please, please,_ please _be here_ , Gale silently prays.

He’s exhausted every corner of the city he thinks Madge may be staying at, and the only other place he can think where she is is her old family house out almost two hours into the country.

Madge had always said the place housed bad memories, but the only other place Gale can think where she’s gone is to Mexico, where her dad’s retired, but his stupid fucking brain for the life of him cannot remember his address, and he doesn’t have it written or saved anywhere.

After what seems like the most anxious drive of his life, he finally pulls up in front of the old southern style house, and runs up the porch steps, only to pause right before the main door.

There, hanging from a nail, is Madge’s wedding ring.

Gale crumples onto the wooden porch. All the fight drained from him.

He had lost her forever.

He just lays there sobbing, a feeling of an anguish so acute piercing his heart, for a moment he thinks he’s having a heart attack.

And then he hears Tchaikovsky.

Specifically, the Tchaikovsky song Madge had set his phone to ring only when she called. It’s as if the angel choir itself is singing the song of life back into his body.

Gale whips his phone out of his pocket, and sure enough, Madge’s smiling face stares back at him

“Madge?” Gale breathes, not yet daring to believe this was actually happening.

“Hello Gale,” Madge greets him, neither coolly nor warmly. Regardless, her voice alone makes him feel like he could lift a truck. “I’ve called to let you know I’m leaving.” And once more he’s lifeless.

“Madge, please,” Gale sobs. “Please Madge, you’re the love of my life-I swear, just give me the chance to explain!”

“I,” even through the phone, Gale can tell how much his crying is affecting her. He’s only once cried in front of Madge, and that was just a few tears of stress as he waited to find out if his mother’s surgery had been successful or not. “That’s why...I’m calling, actually. Let you say your piece.”

“What Delly failed to show or tell you is that I broke off the kiss just seconds after _Katniss_ initiated it,” Gale explains in a rush. “And Madge, I swear on my dead father’s grave, we never did anything more than that!”

“You had to have known she was going to do that!” Madge argues. “Why else would she want you to stay over late and send me away?”

“She sent you away because you have a good relationship with your Dad, and since Peeta has left, her Daddy issues have been through the roof!” Gale says desperately.

“She kissed me because she thought I was the only man who would never leave her.”

“I thought that too,” Madge says in a low voice, and Gale clenches his hair with his free hand tightly.

“Madge, I-”

"Peeta told me!" Madge screams. "He told me that you were curious about the 'what-if' of you and Katniss! How could you?"

"M-"

“I let you speak Gale,” Madge continues to shout. “And what you proved to me is that you didn’t prove to _Katniss_ that the only woman whose man you were for was _me._ ”

His body shudders violently at her use of past tense.

“Please,” Gale begs, tears flowing freely once more. “Let me make this right.”

"No," Madge hisses. "Because you probably never even were my man! You were curious about the _what-if_ because you still love Katniss!"

"No! Madge I swear, I don't love Katniss anymore-it's you! It's only you!"

“I’m going to Europe,” Madge ignores him. “I don’t know for how long. No need to follow me.”

And she hangs up without saying goodbye.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part will be last one.
> 
> This chapter could alternatively be titled "Everyone Hates Gale" lmao.
> 
> (except me....)


	13. Neither Never 4

The shrill and insistent ringing of the house telephone wakes Madge up.

With a grumble, she looks at her bedside clock and decides at 10 am, she should wake up anyways, and shuffles into the hallway where the old style phone sits on a narrow table.

Sometimes life in Mexico felt as if she had gone back in time a little bit, what with the corded phones and living with her Dad again.

Rubbing the sleep out of her hand, Madge picks up the phone.

“Hola?”

“Madge?” Katniss’s tentative voice greets her. It’s been three months since that awful night, but at the sound of the other woman’s voice, Madge’s blood goes icy.

She’s just about to hang up when Katniss speaks up again.

“Peeta found this number, and told me to call you and explain what happened,” Katniss says quietly. Madge only stays on and listens because if Peeta wanted this, it must be something important.

“Look...I’m not even going to ask for your forgiveness, because how can you forgive me when I myself can’t?” Katniss asks rhetorically. “All of our friends….they’ve shunned me-and  I deserve it. I let grief override basic decency and I ruined my best friend’s life, but Madge, you don’t know the whole story.”

“Well get on with it,” Madge snaps, though she’s desperately curious to hear what Katniss has to say. It would be a total lie to say she had not thought of Gale for every single day since she had left.

“Right after I kissed Gale, he said to me the exact same words I said to him all those years before when _I_ rejected _him_ ,” Katniss tells her. “He said, ‘It’s not you, it’s Madge’, the only difference in our sentences was that I had said Peeta’s name instead of yours. Gale wasn’t curious about me and him because he wanted it, he was curious because deep down, he wanted to vindicate that part of his ego I had hurt.”

“And honestly Madge? Before he even said that, when he pulled away...he looked disgusted. It was clear that he only wants you,” Katniss admits. “But kissing your best friend’s husband is pretty disgusting, so he was right there. ”

Madge doesn’t know what to say. She wants to be angry at Gale: had her presence in his life not been enough to soothe his bruised ego? While at the same time, she wants to cry from relief-he wasn’t lying when he told her he didn’t want to be with Katniss.”

“I’m so sorry Madge,” Katniss whispers, and Madge can hear her tears. “I don’t think I’ll ever find a friend as kind, brave, and loving as you, but I deserve...all of your hate. I...I’ll just go now.”

“Katniss,” Madge finally speaks up. “You’re right, I don’t forgive you but….I know that grief makes you do stupid things."

After all, Madge was the one that had nearly gone off the deep end when her Mother had died, and as much as she hated to, she empathized with Katniss.

“Thank you,” Katniss cries. “I don’t deserve your understanding, but...thank you.”

“Right,” Madge says tightly, as she hears the front door begin to open, signalling Dad’s return. “I need to go.”

“Goodbye Madge,” Katniss whispers, and Madge puts down the phone.

“Good morning Pearl,” Dad greets her with a big smile as he opens the door, walking in with an armful of groceries. “Early start to the weekend?”

“Something like that,” Madge tells him, returning his smile with a much smaller one, and helping him unpack the groceries in their small kitchen.

Adjusting to life in Mexico wasn’t really easy, not when she missed so many aspects of her old life, but there were definite perks, like seeing her Dad every day, who still kept busy with his new volunteerspot at a non-profit, teaching children from low socioeconomic backgrounds English, and the 5 minute walk to an absolutely gorgeous beach.

“I’m going to go to the beach,” Madge tells him once they finish eating a light breakfast.

“Do you want me to come with?” Dad asks politely, but she can see the worry in his eyes. He was able to coax the entire story out of her in her second week here, and she can tell that he wants her to mend things with Gale, and is especially worried about her being alone all the time.

“No, that’s ok,” Madge counters just as politely, dropping a quick kiss to his temple before walking outside.

The sight of the sparkling ocean no longer soothes her-it just reminds her how far home is.

Still, she walks across the sand and takes a seat so that every time the tide comes up, her feet are submerged in the foamy waters.

She tries to concentrate on the sound of the children playing around her, and the fisherman in their boats, but as always, her traitorous heart goes to Gale.

She missed him more than she should have. And she hated that, she didn’t want to be _those_ women that went back to their husbands after infidelity, but...Madge could not lie to herself: she still loved him just as much as she did when she was 19 and realized that she had fallen in love with him.

She drew a small heart in the sand with her finger, and watched with sorrow as a wave washed it away.

“Madge?”

She stiffens. How many times has she dreamt of that voice calling out to her?

With a trembling lip, Madge slowly looks over, and sure enough, there _he_ is, standing before her.

Unlike her dreams, he’s sickly looking, skin paler than she’s ever seen it, eyes hollow, and looking bruised in how dark the shadows underneath them are. His beard has grown out, and so has his hair, but what really sticks out to Madge is how _tired_ he looks.

“Gale,” Madge whispers, not even realizing she had lifted a hand out towards him.

That’s enough confirmation for Gale to stumble forward, falling onto his knees right before her, burying his face in hands.

“Madge,” he sobs. “I-I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Me too,” Madge admits, also unable to stop her tears, stopping herself from reaching out and crushing him into a hug.

Gale lifts his face from his hands to look at her. The sight of a crying Gale Hawthorne unnerves her, it’s such a stark contrast from the strong, unbeatable man she always knew.

“Madge, light of my life, love of my heart, _please_ , I beg of you, just give me _one_ chance to redeem myself-to prove that I only want _you!”_ Gale pleads. Her earlier conversation with Katniss echoes in her head.

_It was clear that he only wants you_

The sincerity in his eyes, the tears on his cheeks, and his matted hair undo her.

“Just tell me why,” Madge whispers, tearing her eyes away from him and back to the endless ocean. “Why were you curious?”

“I was a total shithead! I just wanted things to be even between us, she rejected me, I reject her!” Gale explains to her desperately. “I never _ever_ once even _considered_ doing _anything_ , either physical or emotional with her!”

Madge shakes her head. “I don’t think I have to explain how wrong that is on multiple levels, Gale.”

“You don’t,” Gale answers in a hollow voice. Madge looks back at him to see him staring at his hands in both shame and anguish.

She should be angry at him, for having such terrible intentions, and yet...for the first time in three months, she feels light-Gale...hadn’t really cheated on her,had he?

“How did you find me?” Madge asks, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She can’t go back on her resolve of never returning to him.

“I knew you wouldn’t go to Europe,” Gale answers immediately. “That’s where we went to honeymoon, and if you were going to such lengths to avoid me, you wouldn’t go to a continent where we had our best memories together.”

Said memories resurface in her mind, and Madge has to give it to him-that’s exactly why she hadn’t gone.

“Mexico was the only logical choice,” Gale says with a shrug of his shoulders. “Your Dad was here, and you always said you wanted to teach impoverished children.”

“But how’d you get my Dad’s address?” she was fairly certain she had swiped or deleted everything in their house with the information.

“That’s why it took me so long to find you,” Gale admits, looking sheepish. “These past two and a half months, I’ve been going through the country, trying to find you.”

“But you can’t even speak Spanish!” Madge gasps, bringing her hand to rest atop of her fluttering heart.

“Yeah...faced a few setbacks, got robbed yesterday too,” Gale says with a chuckle that comes out a bit weird since he’s still weepy.

“When was the last time you ate?” Madge asks, overwhelmed with concern for her impulsive husband.

“Yesterday morning,” Gale shrugs his shoulders.

“And where are you going to sleep tonight?” Madge asks, trying to process all of this, and failing.

“Right here, probably,” Gale answers, looking around. “I slept on a beach last night, wasn’t too bad.”

That’s the final straw. Madge launches herself at him, his arms wrapping instinctively around him.

“You,” Madge sobs into his neck, uncaring how bad he smells. “You’re starving and homeless, just to find me?”

“I told you I’d do _anything_ to get you back Madge,” Gale cries right back, lying down so she’s completely on top of him, his arms so tight, Madge can hardly breathe. “This is nothing. This is nothing.”

They finally disentangle when Madge hears some mother’s talking about how inappropriate they were behaving in front of children, and Madge leads him back to her Dad’s house, hand in hand with him.

Her bubble of joy is popped when her Dad looks up from his newspaper, sitting on the porch chair.

“Mr. Undersee,” Gale begins, but Dad holds up a hand and shakes his head.

“Take a shower son, Madge and I will make some lunch,” Dad tells Gale. Gale just nods his head and follows Madge’s instructions to the bathroom.

“So he found you,” Dad begins once she walks into the kitchen.

“H-how did you know he was looking?” Madge sputters.

Dad gives her a knowing look. “You don’t think I’d give your hand to any man, now would you?”

Madge doesn’t know what to say, and instead helps him prepare the _chilaquiles_.

Gale comes downstairs about 15 minutes later, and it’s amazing how just one shower has improved his looks so much.

It’s awkward as Gale seats himself, and both Madge and her Dad eat to give him company, even though neither are hungry.

Gale on his part, hardly touches his food, though Madge knows for a fact he must be starving.

“Eat,” Madge says kindly.

He gives her a heartbreaking smile and digs into his food.

Dad only speaks once Gale has finished his last bite.

“I think you both need therapy, both individual and couples,” he tells them both. “You, pearl, had a reaction that some could say was extreme, indicating unresolved self-esteem issues, and _you_ , Gale, there’s a plethora of egoist issues you seem to have, none, I think I have to point out to you.”

Madge can’t help but be overwhelmed with love. She hadn’t even told him of her conversation with Katniss today, and yet he’s pieced everything together so perfectly.

“I’ll do it,” Gale says immediately, eyes darting between Madge and her Dad. “Anything to prove I’m willing to protect and preserve our marriage.”

Madge purses her lips.

“I don’t think I should move back,” Madge says quietly. At Gale’s alarmed expression, she quickly adds on, “ I mean back in! Maybe stay at the family house, or get my own apartment.”

“Why?” Gale practically whines. “We can...have, uh, separate bedrooms,” he suggests, looking awkward to be discussing their...sleeping arrangements in front of her Dad.

“It’s not...just that,” Madge admits, also feeling a bit awkward. “I’ve been in a relationship with you since I was 19. I’m 32, Gale, I think I should learn more indepences. Learn to just be Madge, not just Gale’s wife.”

Gale looks crestfallen, but just nods his head.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Dad speaks up. “But more than that, I know that this will work, because you both want it to.”

Madge smiles at Gale, and he smiles back.

They still have a long way to go before she can happily put his ring back on her finger...but she’s ready to take the first step to getting there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I was able to redeem Gale just enough for you guys not to hate Madge for letting him back in.


	14. With the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

“I should get going soon,” Undersee comments, looking out the large window at the quickly darkening sky.

“I’ll walk you,” Mellark offers with a smile, and Gale can’t stop his flash of irritation. What was it with this guy and kissing literally everyone’s ass?

“I’ll walk her,” Gale counters immediately. It’s only when Undersee, Mellark, and Katniss all look at him bewilderedly, does he realize in his efforts of one-upping doughboy, he’s just volunteered for extra time with the District Princess.

Hell’s Teeth. Ma was right, he needed to control his impulses more.

“Are you sure?” Undersee asks him hesitantly, and Gale bites his lip to keep from snapping at her. That’d only make Katniss upset.

“Yeah it’s fine,” Gale says tightly, getting up to put on his coat. “Mell...Peeta lives right across the street, and I pass through town anyway.”

“Thanks, Gale,” Katniss tells him, smiling for the first time that evening. Gale glances over at Mellark’s suddenly closed off face and feels smug.

Take that, doughboy.

“No prob, catnip,” he replies with a shrug, before glaring at Undersee. How long did it take for her to shrug on her expensive coat?

Once she’s bundled up, they head out into the frigid winter evening. Katniss’s gratitude made the extra time he’d have to spend in the cold now just barely worth it.

Undersee is wise enough not to try and strike up a conversation with him, and they both hurry to their respective houses, eager to be back indoors where it’s warmer. They’re about five minutes out of Victor’s Village, however, when Undersee suddenly stops.

“What?” Gale snaps, turning around to face her. She’s biting her lip and looking away from him uncertainly, the last few rays of sunlight cutting through her hair.

“I think there may be one more way to help Katniss and Peeta,” Undersee says quietly, finally looking at him. “But it’s...insane.”

“What?” Gale repeats, but in a much nicer voice, genuinely curious about what she’s planning.

Instead of replying, Undersee undoes the first button of her coat, and reaches under the sweater she’s wearing. For a moment, Gale’s mind goes to a place that is strictly reserved for Katniss and random girls at the slag heap.

Undersee pulls out a key attached to a thin necklace around her neck.

“The other day, I snuck into my Father’s office and traced his key,” Undersee whispers, eyes darting around them nervously. “And had the locksmith make a copy from the design...if it works, we can get into the Justice Building.”

Gale’s eyes widen as he takes in what she’s said.

“That’s…” he shakes his head, sneaking out newspapers was one thing but forging keys to government buildings? He didn’t think Undersee had it in her. “Alright, I’ll go in.”

Undersee raises an eyebrow, and Gale hates how he finds that attractive. “Just you?”

“Well yeah,” Gale scoffs, letting him look her up and down under the guise of assessing her abilities. “You know what they’d do to us if we were caught? At least a 100 floggings each.”

“Well,” Undersee says in an extra sugary voice. “I guess we’ll have matching scars then.”

Her words take him by surprise once more, and he has to rush forward to catch up with her as she walks around him.

“Look, I’m not going to let a girl put herself in danger,” Gale tells her seriously. “You can be lookout, alright?”

“I’m already in danger,” Undersee says quietly, still walking forward purposefully. “We all are.”

Gale has no way of arguing with that, so he just walks alongside her, until they reach the Justice Building.

“We should go from the back,” Undersee suggests. “There are cameras out front.”

“Aren’t there cameras in the back?” Gale asks as he follows her around the huge building.

“Capitol was too cheap to install cameras on both ends,” Undersee explains. “I guess even then they underestimated 12.”

As Undersee inserts her key into a backdoor, Gale considers her words. It was strange, but until then, he had not thought of them as related at all, but she was right...they were both 12. He suddenly felt a new kinship with the Mayor’s daughter.

“It worked!” Undersee squeals, looking up at him excitedly. He gives her a small smile.

Together, they enter the Justice Building. A few of the lights have been left on, so they aren’t left fumbling around blindly in the dark, and eventually, they make it to Undersee’s dad’s office.

Neither of them speak as they comb through file after file. Gale is just about to put down the file he’s holding, when one particular document catches his eye.

It’s dated from five years ago, a week before the mine collapse.

Mayor Undersee had requested for a temporary shutdown of the mines while the engineers scooped out weak spots and found ways of strengthening them.

“Madge,” Gale says quietly, his hands shaking around the paper he clutched. “Your dad he…”

He’s cut off by voices at the end of the hallway. Probably the night cleaning crew, but they had no way of knowing for sure.

Madge immediately rushes over and pushes a window open.

“Gale, we need to jump out, now!” Madge whispers frantically, as cold air blows in. Gale just stares at her dumbfoundedly as the voices draw nearer.

Madge snatches the file from his hands and puts it in its right place before shoving him to the window. “ _Fucking_ jump!”

So he does. Either Madge has done this before, or she had quickly calculated that the window wasn’t far enough from the ground to cause any real damage. Before he’s able to get up and move, though, Madge lands right on him. That hurts.

“Hell’s teeth,” Gale groans, spitting out dirt from his mouth. Who knew a girl so small could feel so fucking heavy?

Madge rolls off of him and sighs in relief. “I got the window to close.”

“Hey!” a man’s voice yells at them. “Who’s there?”

Gale and Madge look up to see two peacekeepers rushing towards them. Perfect.

Without waiting a moment, Gale gets to his feet and pulls up Madge by her hand, sprinting away from the Peacekeepers.

“Stop right there!” one of them shouts, and Gale just forces his legs to move faster, dragging Madge behind him.

They cut through stores and houses, taking back roads and alleyways as they zigzag through the District to the one place Gale knows the Peacekeepers never check up on.

The slag heap.

He can feel Madge slowing down as she becomes tired, her grip on his hand slackening as he has to exert more force into pulling her forward.

“Come on,” Gale pants. “We’re almost there.”

Once the slag heap comes into sight, Gale lets them slow down, and Madge immediately stops, bending over her knees as she heaves for breath.

They weren’t in the clear zone just yet, so Gale steps towards her and loops an arm around her legs, pulling her over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Madge gasps in protest, but Gale ignores her, scampering up the nearest pile of coal refuse, slippering more often than usual since he was doing it one-handedly. Eventually, they make it to the top, and Gale finally sets Madge down.

“Oh my God,” Madge breathes, sinking down, looking totally exhausted.

Gale joins her but keeps a trained eye below them. They’ve seemed to have lost the Peacekeepers, but you could never be too sure.

“Listen, Madge,” Gale begins, but she cuts him off.

“There’s been an uprising in 8,” Madge interrupts. Her cheeks are red from running, eyes wide with excitement, and her hair is blowing in the wind.

“Wha-what?” Gale stammers.

Madge nods. “The entire District is under martial law.”

Gale looks down at 12. Theirs was a tiny District, but he knew the anger, the hatred, the want for a better life sat brewing in most of its inhabitants.

“It’s happening,” Gale whispers as his fingers tremble. “The rebellion. It’s happening.”

“Maybe,” Madge whispers. Gale looks back at her. She’s looking down at her lap sadly. “Snow will do everything to make sure it’s smashed.”

“And we’ll just keep on fighting,” Gale says without an inch of doubt. “That son of a bitch will be killed in our lifetimes, or my name is asswipe.”

Madge suddenly laughs. A loud, infectious, twinkling laugh that makes her clench her stomach. Gale can’t help but smile alone.

“You would make a good politician,” Madge tells him through her laughs. “I know I’d vote for you.”

“Well, who knows,” Gale shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe if the rebellion is a success, I might just become a politician.” He gives her a wicked smirk. “You can be my secretary, stealing the keys of my opponents.”

“Oh hush you,” Madge giggles. “I might just be that opponent.”

“Madge,” Gale says in a suddenly serious voice, making her stiffen in surprise. “Let me save you the heartache, you’ll just lose.”

Madge laughs again, but there’s a certain glint in her eye.

“You said Madge,” she points out quietly. “What happened to ‘Undersee’?”

Gale looks up at the sky as he thinks about how he wants to say this.

“I saw your dad’s request for a mine shutdown,” he admits quietly. “If the Capitol had listened to him, my dad would have still been alive.”

When he looks back at her, he sees that she looks confused.

With a sigh he continues, “I never once thought that your dad cared about miners, but now I see that I was wrong...guess it just opened my eyes to how I see you both.”

“There’s a way you can make it up to me,” Madge says quietly. Gale leans in to hear her better.

“Yeah?” Gale says in an equally quiet voice. “What?”

“You can be my secretary,” Madge says before pulling back to giggle madly. Gale shakes his head as he bites his lip to keep from smiling.

“Ok, walked right into that one,” he acquiesces with a chuckle.

They both grow quiet as they watch down below them for any stray Peacekeepers. When he notices Madge shiver, he takes off his coat and hands it to her.

“Oh! No that’s alright,” Madge refuses politely. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I run on high temperatures,” Gale tells her, ignoring her and draping his coat over her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you,” Madge says shyly, pulling his coat around her tighter. Seeing Madge wearing something of his does something strange to his gut.

Gale swallows tightly and looks away.

“You know, if the revolution comes, I do hope 12 finds a...more romantic spot than the slag heap,” Madge remarks dryly, as she picks up some refuse to throw into the wind.

“Well, it gets the job done,” Gale defends. “What’s more romantic than two people alone with the moon?”

“Huh,” Madge says simply.

“What?” Gale asks gruffly, feeling overly self-conscious all of a sudden.

“Nothing, nothing,” Madge assures him. “Never thought you’d be a romantic at heart, though.”

“I’m a lot better getting what I feel across with actions than words,” Gale tells her, before pausing. It was him, her, the moon, and a brewing rebellion. “Want to see?”

Madge’s answer is instantaneous. “Yes.”

He kisses her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear, Gale and Madge were over at Katniss's place to help with training.


	15. Doing the right thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

Madge sprays the glass with Windex before picking up a rag to meticulously rub the cleaning chemical all over the large sliding door.

It was a Friday night, and Madge was doing what’s been her weekend starter ritual for the past five years now: cleaning up. She knew it was lame, but it served as a stress outlet and allowed her to indulge in a clean apartment for the rest of the weekend.

The radio plays a cheesy love song and the soft sounds of the city at night and a summer breeze drift in through the open windows.

_Knock knock!_

The sudden loud noise makes her drop her rag as she startles. She quickly makes her way to the couch where her phone is sitting and finds no text from anyone saying they were coming over. More than concerned, Madge inches towards the door, where it’s rapped upon again.

Getting on her tiptoes to see through the peephole, Madge falls back on the balls of her feet in shock.

What on Earth was _Gale_ doing at her apartment, alone on a Friday night?

Opening the door quickly, Madge peers out at him in confusion. “Hi?”

His hair is sticking out at several angles, making him look more like Rory than ever. He’s wearing a button down, but the second button was missed and buttoned into where the first button is supposed to be.

“Hey,” Gale says in a low, strained voice. Madge blinks at him as she waits for him to say something else. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “Can I-can I come in?”

Madge nods, albeit unsurely. Back when she and Katniss still shared an apartment, she and Gale had been roommates for two years when he had decided to move in with Katniss, so it’s not like they were strangers, but things had usually been...tense, between them. While there had been some really nice moments between them in those two years, Madge still can’t think of a single reason why Gale would show up her place so late, and uninvited.

“Where’s Katniss?” Madge asks casually, though her stomach twists with worry. Maybe something had happened to Katniss, and he had come to deliver the news.

“She’s out with Johanna,” Gale replies tensely, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jeans, eyes darting around everywhere, but not looking at her.

Ok. It was clear that something was wrong with Gale, and that he needed to tell her, but couldn’t, while his nerves were so frayed.

“I was just cleaning up, so it still kinda smells like chemical waste,” Madge says with a light laugh. “Do you wanna wait out on the balcony while I make some tea?”

Gale nods quickly, looking relieved, confirming Madge’s theory that he needs some space to calm down. She leads him to the sliding door that she was just cleaning and opens it for him. He gives her a smile that looks more like a grimace before he goes outside and leans against the rails. She allows herself just a moment to stare at his back in confusion before closing the door and heading into the kitchen.

As she waits for the kettle to boil, Madge glances down at what she’s wearing. A tank top with a chocolate ice cream stain from forever ago, and stretched-out yoga pants. Her hair was in a ponytail that could very easily be confused with a rat’s nest. She scolds herself for even worrying about her appearance; it’s not like she was trying to impress her best friend’s fiancee or anything like that.

Madge pours him a glass of tea. He’s not a huge fan, but she knows that when he drinks it, he takes earl gray, with a teaspoon of sugar. She herself likes plain black with some milk and sugar. The drink for the soul.

She has to rap on the glass with a knuckle since she can’t open the door with two mugs in her hands. Gale immediately pushes off the railing and opens the door for her, and takes the mug she hands him.

Shutting the door behind her, Madge takes a spot next to where Gale was leaning and sips her tea. There’s a full moon, and the sound of crickets chirping is loud and relaxing. It really is a beautiful night.

“I need to talk to you about something,” Gale says quietly. Madge turns around and finds that he’s still by the door, his mug on a patio table.

He no longer looks frazzled, but determined, for which Madge is actually relieved. She’s seen angry, impatient, grumpy, sad, frustrated, annoyed and a million other emotions on his face, but never frazzled, and she was glad the Gale she knew was back.

Madge nods to let him know she’s listening and turns around so that she’s facing him completely, her back against the railing.

“I’m in love with you,” Gale tells her.

Madge’s mug falls to the ground as it feels as if the very axis of the Earth has tilted.

Her eyes dart between the broken ceramic to Gale’s eyes, her heart beating so fast, she can feel her pulse in her hears. There’s no way he had said what she just heard. There was no way.

“I love you,” Gale repeats. Madge feels faint. “I realized that about half an hour after I proposed to Katniss.”

“You,” Madge tries to whisper, but her throat is suddenly constricted as tears begin to gather in her eyes. “We’re not even friends!”

“We’re more than that,” Gale says, stepping towards her. The pieces of what used to be her mug are crushed under his boots. “There’s always been...something between us. Don’t deny it.”

Hundreds of memories she had convinced herself were flukes flood her mind. Lingering glances. Stolen laughter. Staying up to ungodly hours to talk when they both had work in the morning. Hanging out with his family. Hugs that lasted a second too long.

“No,” Madge says in tremoring voice, shaking her head as a tear slips out of her eye. “No, this is wrong.”

“How?” Gale demands, taking yet another step towards her. She regrets suggesting the balcony-she has nowhere to run to. “How is it wrong if I love you and you love me?”

“Because you are engaged to my _best_ friend!” Madge hisses, whirling around and staring back into the city, clenching the railing tightly as she tried desperately to regain control over her whirlwind of emotions.

“I can break the engagement,” Gale whispers, his breath hot against her neck. He must be leaning down. “We don’t even have to tell anyone for a while. But please Madge, if you love me, don’t ask me to go.”

Madge squeezes her eyes tightly and bites her lip as she tries to figure out what to do. It was true, she loves him. For years, she had taken her feelings for him and vanquished them to the darkest and most loneliest part of her, the guilt of feeling this way for her best friend’s boyfriend keeping them tethered there. But now, with him baring himself to her in the most sincere of ways, Madge’s resolve wavers.

“I can’t hurt Katniss like this,” Madge whispers, trying and failing to do the right thing by telling him to leave.

“You won’t be,” Gale tells her very assuredly. “In fact, you’ll be saving her heartache. She and I aren’t going to be happily married. Hell, we’re hardly happy dating.”

“This is wrong,” Madge repeats, but she turns around to face him. His face is so close. She’s betraying Katniss. His eyes so are beautiful…

“I don’t care,” Gale declares softly. “We’ve lost so many years because of my dumbassery...let me in, Madge.”

So she does.

(She can only hope that Katniss can find it in her to forgive her.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who just watched that episode in The Office where Jim confesses his feelings.


	16. Waiting 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

_June 21, 1865_

The place is even prettier in the summer. The bare skeletons of the trees he had remembered were now a lush green, and it seemed that nature reverberated with just as much joy as every union man had with the conclusion of the war.

“Here is good,” Gale tells the man who had let Gale hitch a ride with him on his cart.

Lewis slows the horses and turns around to give Gale a confused look. “Thought you were being deployed to help with reconstruction?”

Gale forced himself not to roll his eyes. He was certain that Lewis had only agreed to give him a ride for the protection only a soldier could give. While most white southerners at the moment were republicans, those that weren’t would be more than happy to take out a carpetbagger.

“I’m taking up an independent posting in a town little ways from here,” Gale lies as he swings himself out of the cart, shrugging his bag over a shoulder. “Good luck.”

The truth was, Gale had been honorably discharged after taking a bullet to his shoulder. He had gone up to Philly only to promise his family that he’d be right back.

Gale couldn’t celebrate the surrender until he knew that Madge was safe.

With that thought in mind, his hand tightened its grip on the leather of his bag, and his legs quickened in pace.

The woods of South Carolina delivered him a welcome relief from the relentless sun of the south, and soon enough he finds himself in front of the house where he had fallen in love. Relieved it seemed to remain unscathed, Gale rushes towards it.

Bounding up the stairs of the porch where he had first kissed her, Gale knocks on the front door impatiently, chest bubbling with excitement, a million and one thoughts, all about Madge, flying through his mind.

No one answers.

Excitement ebbing only to be replaced by morbid fear, Gale knocks again, this time, harder and longer.

Silence.

His bag drops to the floor as he grips his hair tightly with both hands.

Keep it together, man.

Taking a deep breath, Gale goes around the house. The kitchen door was faulty and would be easy to bust open.

It turns out he doesn’t have to do this, because he finds Madge in the back, facing away from him, as she hung up laundry.

For a moment, he just stands there, taking in her tied hair, her slender neck, the curve of her hips, and the bareness of her feet.

“Madge,” Gale calls out quietly, watching her stiffen as the white linen fell from her hands.

Slowly, she turns to him. When she finally faces him, her blue eyes are wide for just a second, a sweet breeze blowing between them as they take in each other for the first time in four months before her face crumples and she rushes towards him.

_“Gale!”_ Madge cries as she launches herself at him. He lets himself be pushed down into the mossy grass as his arms wrap around her build tightly; he wants to feel every inch of her against every inch of him.

“You’re alive,” Madge whispers as her tears moisten his neck. “You came back.”

“Said I would, didn’t I?” Gale says gruffly, blinking away his own tears. Truthfully, even he can’t believe that it’s Madge- sweet, soft, warm, kind, beautiful, quiet- Madge in his arms. “You didn’t take up a new sweetheart while I was gone, now did you?”

Madge lifts her face from his neck to look down at him. Her cheeks are blotchy and eyes glassy when she kisses him.

Proprietary damned, Gale rolls them over so that he’s on her, and soon his hands are in her hair and her arms around his neck and it takes all his self-control not to buck his hips into hers.

When he finally pulls away, Madge is smirking.

“Does that answer your question?” she asks amusedly.

“Not yet,” Gale retorts mischievously, leaning down for another kiss. This time it’s Madge who breaks away.

“You must be hungry and tired,” she says breathlessly, trying to push him off of her. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

“I’m hungry for you,” Gale growls, trying to kiss her again, but she looks away, leaving his lips to land on her cheek.

“Mother is sick,” Madge blurts, not able to look at him. “I-I can’t leave her.”

Gale frowns down at her. “Who said you had to?”

Madge bites her lip and fidgets underneath him uncomfortably.

“I... I don’t mean to presume,” Madge begins hesitantly. “But if we were to ever-to ever get married, wouldn’t you want me to come up to Philadelphia?”

Gale can’t help it. He laughs, loud and booming. Madge’s glare only makes him laugh harder.

She pushes him again, this time more violently, but he doesn’t budge. He has, after all, a lot more body mass than her.

“We can stay here,” Gale tells her with a kiss on her forehead. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Madge doesn’t look convinced. “What about your Mother and your siblings? Rory, Vick, and Posy?”

Touched she remembers their names, he kisses her cheek again, before finally getting off of her to look for something in his pocket. When he finds it, he closes his hand around it, pulling it out.

“I’ll call them down,” Gale says as Madge also sits up, running a hand through her disheveled hair. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“I don’t,” Madge says quickly with a shy smile.

“Good,” Gale takes a deep breath, and opens his hand, revealing a thin loop of metal. “I made this from the bullet I took to the shoulder. To show I survived for you...”

Gale feels extremely embarrassed at saying this aloud (it hadn’t sounded this corny in his head), but he pushes on, holding the ring out to her. “...Marry me, Madge?”

“Really?” Madge breathes, as tears slip out of her eyes again. Gale nods. Madge holds out her hand.

He slips the ring onto her finger.

It fits perfectly.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't know how my dumb ass has forgotten to say this for the last FIFTEEN chapters, but if you have a prompt you'd like me to fill, you're more than welcome to request one on here or on tumblr :) I'm in this processing of doing a few, but I'd be happy to write something for you!
> 
> Anyways. Hope this was worth the 'wait'. Ha.


	17. Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: G
> 
> Content warning: None

Gale practically skipped through the dark hallways as he made his way to the compartment assigned to him and Madge four years ago.

It had been two years since he had seen his beautiful wife and young son, and his chest felt as if it could burst from the anticipation of seeing them again after the end of a long and bitter war, and it was all he could do to keep himself from sprinting back to her

Finally, he reached it, _room 514_. With a shuddering breath, Gale opened the door and stepped in.

The room was dark, which didn’t surprise him. It was five a.m., a full hour before the required waking time. Despite the lack of light, Gale makes his way over to where Madge sleeps with her back to him easily, feeling as if he was floating.

Turning on the lamp next to her, Madge’s blonde hair glows in the low light, and their son, Oliver, is finally illuminated in his spot between his Mother’s arms.

Oliver. His baby boy had been only one and a half when Gale had left, and now he was approaching four. It made Gale’s heart ache to know he had missed so many precious years of his son’s life, but to be standing here in front of him, knowing that the Capitol would never rise again--it made it all worth it.

Madge shifts in her sleep before her eyes fly open in panic. She turns to look at the lamp but stops when she comes face to face with his torso. Slowly, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know who stood before her, Madge looks up.

_“Gale,”_ Madge whispers, tears immediately gathering in her eyes when she sees him. Unwrapping herself from Oliver, she throws herself at him, and he pulls her to him easily, all of his senses going into a high at the feel of Madge against him for the first time three years.

“Madge,” Gale breathes, burying his face into her hair as she cried into his neck, her legs coming to wrap around his hips, as if she was just as desperate to be as close to him as he wanted to be to her.

His lips were just above hers when a small voice interrupts them.

“Mama?”

Gale gently puts down his wife to look at his sleepy son. God, he looked just like what Rory and Vick did at this age.

“Who’re you?” Oliver demands with a scowl, identical to Gale’s. Madge must notice this too, because she gives a water laugh. Smiling at her, he looks back at his son and takes a step closer to him.

“I’m your Dad.”

Oliver ’s gray eyes go wide, and he looks to Madge for affirmation. When she nods encouragingly, Oliver looks back at him, but he’s still suspicious.

“I thought you was a sol-dur in the war,” Oliver huffs, crossing his arms in front of his little chest.

“That’s right,” Gale says amusedly, forcing himself to not reach out and grab him for a hug. “But we won the war. Now you and I can play again like we used to.”

Oliver gasps as if he’s just remembered a memory until now forgotten, and jumps up and launches himself at Gale.

“Papa!” Oliver cries, and Gale wraps his arms tightly around the small body of his son, pressing a flurry of kisses against the side of his head.

Madge comes forward to wrap her arms around both of them, and Gale pulls out one arm to pull her into his side.

“I ‘member you,” Oliver whispers, still hugging him tightly. “You jump-ed me in the air.”

“I did,” Gale chuckles, remembering how he used to toss Oliver in the air, much to Madge’s dismay.

“Are you happy, baby?” Madge asks Oliver, kissing his arm. Gale feels him nod vigorously against him.

“I wanna play wif you more!” Oliver shouts excitedly, pulling away and putting his tiny hands around Gale’s face. His eyes are bright, cheeks chubby, and hair in total disarray. His baby teeth shine brightly in his wide grin, and Gale is so so happy that his son was born to be more than just another life lost in the war. He’d grow up to be happy, sipping juice with his friends as he lived a peaceful life. Gale’d make sure of it.

“You will,” Gale promises warmly, before looking down at Madge. Her lovely lovely face is so happy, that he can’t help but lean down and kiss her. It feels just as perfect as their first kiss, five years ago.

“Ewww,” Oliver protests, sticking out his tongue. Gale just laughs and kisses his forehead.

Oliver doesn’t find that as gross.


	18. Speak now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None. For the anon who wanted an objection to a wedding objection.

“Oh my God.”

Katniss puts down the catalog she’s looking at to glance over at Peeta, who’s sitting on his side of their bed, staring at his phone in shock.

“What?” Katniss asks, curious to know what has Peeta looking so flabbergasted.

“Do you remember Madge?” Peeta asks her hesitantly, slowly putting his phone down on his lap.

Of course she remembered Madge. Her high school friend, and college best friend. Things had...fizzled between them, a few years ago, around the time Katniss had moved in with her then-boyfriend, Gale. She still doesn’t know what made Madge suddenly go AWOL, but she still held Madge dear in her heart.

“Yeah,” Katniss answers with a frown. “Of course I do.”

“She’s getting married tomorrow,” Peeta says with a wince as Katniss sits straight up, her own mouth falling open.

“What?” Katniss hisses unbelievingly, hurt that Madge hadn’t bothered to get in contact with her to share such large news. “To who?”

Peeta looks at her uncertainly, as if he isn’t sure he wants to say. Finally, he answers.

“To Gale.”

 

* * *

 

“You look so beautiful, love.”

Madge looks into the mirror to meet her Mother’s hazy gaze as she rubs her shoulder tenderly.

“Thanks, Mom,” Madge whispers tightly, trying hard not to cry from all the overwhelming emotions she felt.

“I want you to have this,” Mother says in her airy voice of hers, pulling something out from her purse.

It’s a golden pin of a beautiful bird.

“It was Maysilee’s,” Mother says in a distant voice, as she peers down at the pin. Her clouded blue eyes meet Madge’s again. “I want you to have it. I want you to live a life full of love and happiness, the one that was taken from May.”

Madge’s fingers shake as she takes the pin from Mother’s outstretched hand, and clasps it through the lace of her bodice.

“Thank you, Mom,” Madge repeats, as the sun glints off her newly acquired pin. She understands completely the significance of her Mom gifting it to her, and it makes her heart swell with joy. She only hoped she carried on its legacy of love.

Mother opens her mouth but is beat by a knock on the door. A moment later, her fiance’s mischievous head pops in.

“Oh dear,” Mother says lightly as Gale steps into the room. “I suppose I should go before I become a witness to this bad luck.”

“See you Mom,” Madge says amusedly as Mother winks at her and taps Gale’s shoulder lightly before leaving the dressing room.

“So…” Madge begins expectantly as she stands up from the vanity to face him. “How do I look?”

Gale rubs his chin as he pretends to consider this, before reaching for her with a large grin. “Like the prettiest woman in this whole world.”

“Flatterer,” Madge accuses but lets herself be encased by his embrace completely, her cheek against his heart.

“I’m serious, Madge,” Gale whispers. “All those years of pretending we didn’t want each other...to have you standing here in front of me as my bride, it feels like a dream that I’m going to wake up from any minute.”

Madge pulls away from him just enough so he can see her face, and more importantly, so he can see the sincerity in her eyes. “I’m here, and I’m not going away. I love you, Gale. I think I always have.”

The intensity in his gray eyes as they stare down at her makes her knees weak.

“Me too,” he tells her in a low voice, leaning down to kiss her. Madge moves her face so that his lips fall on her cheek, and laughs at his confused expression.

“Kissing an unwed woman?” Madge gasps. “Absolutely scandalous, Mr. Hawthorne!”

“Oh just you wait,” Gale growls playfully, though he does let go of her and steps back. “Tonight, I’ll really show you what’s scandalous, Mrs. Hawthorne.”

Madge is still blushing when Father comes to walk her down the aisle.

He isn’t able to hold back his tears when he sees her.

“Margaret,” he chokes. “My little girl….all grown up, and getting married.”

And of course, if Father cries, there’s no way she’ll be able to hold back her own tears.

“I’ll always be your little girl, Dad,” Madge promises, squeezing his hand tightly. “Always.”

Father nods and gives her a watery smile. “That you will...let’s get you down that aisle then, hm?”

And so they set forth, slowly down the stairs, since her heels are high, and when they enter the ceremony room the reverberations of the organ settle deep in her bones as she makes her way to the love of her life.

Though she had just seen him minutes ago, she can’t pull her eyes away from him and feels as if a magnetic force is what’s bringing her towards him, not her own two legs. Finally, she stands before him, and Madge is so lost in the gray eyes that don’t once waver from hers, that Madge is hardly aware of what the Minister is saying. All she is aware of is that she fought for Gale, and now they were here, promising themselves to each other, for this life, and the next.

Gale had thought personalized vows were “cringy and over the top”, and Madge wasn’t particularly impassioned about them, so they repeated the standard vows and it’s finally come to the point where they’re asked if they do.

Gale’s voice is loud, strong, and totally confident when he says, “I do.” Madge’s voice is breathless and so so happy when she says it.

Finally, the Minister looks into the crowd and announces, “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

The expected silence is broken by a loud and frantic, “Wait!”

Madge looks over in shock to a red-faced and panting Katniss, who looks as if she’s just run five city blocks. Considering the state of her casual clothes, she may as well have.

“Don’t say yes!” Katniss shouts to Madge. “He’s using you, Madge!”

Horrified gasps sound through the large room as the guests look between Katniss’s determined face, and the couple to be.

Madge looks at Gale, her throat closing in irrational fear. His expression is thunderous as he glares at Katniss.

“What the fu...dge,” Gale censors himself just in time with a quick glance at his sister, Posy. “Are you going on about?”

“Did he tell you we broke up just a year ago?” Katniss asks Madge, ignoring Gale completely. “Did he tell you he didn’t want to break up? He’s using you, as a rebound, or to get at me- I don’t know, but you can’t do this Madge!”

Madge is torn between fury at her oldest friend for nearly ruining the happiest day of her life, happiness that despite Madge cut things off because of her own petty jealousy Katniss still cared about her enough to do something so bold, and embarrassment over what she had to admit out loud.

“Katniss you’re such a-”

“Gale,” Madge cuts him off quietly, with a pleading look in her eyes. His fury ebbs at her silent plea, but he looks unhappy as he nods at her.

“Katniss, the day you two broke up, Gale came straight to me,” Madge admits with a wince, hyper-aware of hundreds of eyes on her, and how Katniss’s widen in hurt. “He resisted breaking up with you because he knew he’d be forced to confront his feelings for….well, me.”

“And the only reason why I hadn’t done that earlier,” Gale continues, looking both sheepish and angry. “Is because I was certain that she’d never want me.”

“So you-you were in love with her, even when we were together?” Katniss splutters, her face going red again, but this time, not from running. Next to her, Gale nods.

“I was ready to propose a week after dating her,” Gale says to Katniss, but Madge looks up at him with shock. She had not known that. “But I forced myself to wait 3 months, just to make sure I wouldn’t scare her off.”

“Do you remember what you said to me?” Gale asks Katniss, whose mouth is hanging open slightly. “About finding someone where things aren’t easy, but right?” Gale turns to her, and all the anger is gone from his eyes, replaced with an undeniable tenderness. “Well with Madge, things aren’t right-they’re perfect. I’ve wanted people before, loved them even, but not like this. Not at all like this. You, Madge, are everything I have dreamed of, and more.”

Madge is dimly aware of her tears and the cheers of the guests at Gale’s romantic declaration. How could she, for even a moment, doubt him?

She’s snapped out of her reverie when she sees the dejected form of Katniss turn to leave in the corner of her eye. Hurrying down the aisle after her, Madge catches her by the wrist and smiles at the shocked expression on her face.

“I didn’t tell you because I felt guilty,” Madge whispers. “But I really don’t want to get married without my best friend up there next to me….what do you say?”

Katniss’ eyes fill with happy, relieved tears but she looks around hesitantly, clearly looking uncomfortable.

“I want this day to be perfect,” Madge continues, tugging her gently towards the altar. “And it can’t be without you.”

“Are you sure?” Katniss asks unbelievingly. Madge answers her by pulling her to the altar. Katniss settles next to her bridesmaids, Delly and Bristel. It’s only when she’s in front of him again does Madge realize that Gale may not have appreciated the gesture, but when she looks at him, he just smiles and rolls his eyes. It seems he had missed Katniss’ fire as well.

“Guess I got that vow in after all,” he jokes, earing a round of laughter from the guests.

“Well,” the Minister says, looking clearly unsettled at the progression of events. “Any further objections?”

Madge giggles nervously, but thankfully no one speaks up again.

“In that case then, I now pronounce you-”

Gale’s lips were on hers before the Minister could finish his proclamation.

 


	19. Dunkirk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None. Consider this Panem meets WWII. Christoper Nolan, please don't sue me.

_Somewhere above the English Channel_

_Year 77_

__

 

“This is mockingjay leader,” a woman’s static-y voice spoke into his headset. “Fuel check, mockingjay 1, 2, and 3.”

“This is mockingjay 1,” Gale replies as he taps his fuel gauge. A little over a quarter down. “3 and ¾ of the tank.”

“This is mockingjay 2,” Odair speaks up next. “Down half a gallon from full.”

“This is mockingjay 3,” Undersee finishes, her voice light as she speaks. “64 gallons, mockingjay leader.” It didn’t surprise him that out of the three of them, she was the only one with the exact amount.

“Stay at 500 feet to maintain enough fuel for an estimated 40 minutes of fighting time over Dunkirk beach,” mockingjay leader instructs them.

“Understood,” Undersee says as her plane dips to the left. “Mockingjay 1, taking vector 128, position five.”

“Understood,” Gale tells her. “Mockingjay 2, take vector 52, position 3.”

“Already on it, Mockingjay 1,” Odair replies cheekily. Gale looks over and finds both members of his squadron in position, and pulls his own craft up just enough so that he can ease into position one.

For a while, the three of them fly in perfect sync and silence, the English canal stretching on seemingly forever both in front and behind them.

“Why didn’t they just load at Calais?” Odair sighs. Gale glances over at him and finds him leaning into his seat, almost looking bored. “Dunkirk is so far.”

Gale goes back to watching out in front of him, his eyes darting around the sky periodically. “The enemy had something to say about that.”

It was funny how they were never once taught about any other nation in the world, and suddenly Panem was in a world war; no longer reaping children for senseless games, but drafting adults for dumbass wars. While Gale wished for his country to win, mostly out of self-preservation, he’d be more than happy for any and all enemy bombs to fall on the Capitol.

“We’re so low,” Undersee’s soft voice snaps him from his thoughts. She’s looking up at the sky. “They could ambush us so easily.”

“Remain vigilant,” Mockingjay leader tells them. “They’ll come out from the sun-keep your eyes open. 500 feet ahead, and you’ll be in enemy territory, which will mean total radio silence on our end. Good luck, mockingjays.”

Gale chances a glance into the blinding sun. He doesn’t need luck; he needs really good sunglasses.

Suddenly, he hears Undersee’s gasp, followed by a quick, “Bandit!”

“Break,” Gale says in an immediate, but calm voice, a total antithesis to how sharply the three crafts split from each other, diving into defensive formation one.

 

* * *

 

Madge dives and then rolls, but when she looks back, the Duitse plane is right behind her, and she’s able to just barely flip onto her side when the Duitse unloads his fire on her.

“He’s on me!” Madge calls out to her squadmates, taking another dive before pulling up sharply and rolling to the right as tracer fire surrounds her.

“I’m on him,” Gale’s deep voice says in her ear, and when she looks back again, it’s to see the Duitse and his flaming plane fall into the channel. The relief she feels is sick, but so welcomed.

 

* * *

 

“Clear,” Gale announces casually as he watches the Duitse plane hit the water and shatter when suddenly the right side of his craft is hit with tracer fire. He banks a hard right just as a second 109 pulls back up into the clouds.

Glancing around, he only sees one craft. Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of dread in his stomach, he calls out, “Mockingjay 2, come in.”

Silence.

“Mockingjay 2, come in,” Gale repeats through clenched teeth as he thinks of Annie, Finnick’s pregnant wife, waiting for her husband to come back to her.

“Mockingjay 3, I have you to port,” Gale tells Undersee tightly. “No visual on Mockingjay 3.”  
  
“Understood, Mockingjay 1,” Undersee says in a teary voice. He looks over and sees her wiping her eyes with her helmet visor up. “Orbit for a look….”

He hears her quiet sniffles the entire time during their search, and it’s only when he looks at his fuel gauge, does he realize something is wrong: it’s reading at zero, which is impossible since he’s still flying. Which can only mean something went wrong when he was hit by the tracer fire. Fuck.

“Mockingjay 1!” Undersee’s excited voice suddenly speaks up. “Wreckage down below.”

“Stay in position,” he tells her as he spirals down lower to get a closer look. The emblem of Panem is unmistakable on the tail of the craft.

“Duitse?” Undersee asks. He can hear the hope in her voice. Gale closes his eyes and allows himself just a moment to grieve for the friend he had lost. More of that would come later.

“No,” Gale answers tightly. “That was mockingjay 3.”

“Maybe he got out,” Undersee insists stubbornly, her voice growing thicker with tears.

“I didn’t see a parachute,” Gale says, ending her hypotheticals. “Record his position, then set heading 128, height…” he checks his instruments. “1000.”

“Understood, mockingjay 1,” Undersee replies in a flat voice. He’s glad she’s able to reign in her emotions, the mission is now hard enough without worrying about Undersee’s vision being compromised by tears.

As they go back into position, Gale is able to fiddle with his fuel gauge. The glass is cracked, and when he tapes it, the needle bolts up before falling back down below zero.

“Mockingjay 2, what’s your fuel?” Gale asks, keeping the worry out of his voice.

“52 gallons, mockingjay 1,” Undersee answers after checking her gauge. Gale nods and pulls out a grease pencil from his airmen uniform. On his dash, he scribbles the time and then 52.

“Keep letting me know,” Gale tells her as they continue to fly on. “My gauge got busted when I was hit back there.”

“Shouldn’t you turn around?” Undersee asks worriedly. He can see her looking over at him.

Gale shakes his head. “It’ll be fine.” Despite his assurance to her, he goes and checks all his other switches and panels….everything seems fine. He’s confident it’s just the gauge.

 

* * *

 

Ahead of them, Madge can see huge billows of black smoke above Dunkirk beach, and below them, she can see various boats of multiple sizes, all heading to the same destination as she and Gale.

“Forty gallons, mockingjay 1,” Madge informs Gale, glancing over at him for the 100th time in worry. If it was up to her, she would have sent him back; it was just too dangerous not knowing how much fuel you had exactly.

“Understood,” Gale speaks. “We’re about five minutes away, climb to 2000.”

Madge frowns. “That’s more fuel-”

“We are not getting ambushed again,” Gale says sharply. “Climb up, and dive down on those bastards.”

Madge sighs and pulls on her stick. “Understood.”

Despite everything, she does feel better up above, closer to the clothes and further away from the water, but that feeling of relief dies very quickly.

“Robber,” Gale growls. Madge’s head snaps up as she looks around. “2’ o clock. I think it’s gonna bomb the minesweeper.”

Madge looks down, and sure enough, in the very near distance is a huge ship sailing the flag of their foreign ally, Britannia.

“He’s got an escort,” Gale points out. Madge squints but is soon able to make out the smaller plane. “Take the 109. Bomber’s mine.”

“Understood,” Madge says before diving.

It turns out there are two more fighters escorting the bomber, but with Gale occupied with the bomber itself, Madge has no choice but to open fire as she crisscrosses through the sky, only barely missing the Duitse fire.

As she hears Gale open fire on the bomber, Madge makes a decision. Without waiting a further second, she pulls up into nearly a straight line, fighting the G’s suddenly imposed on her and watches as two 109’s rush towards her--they want to trap her.

That’s exactly what she wanted.

It’s a gamble, but she guesses the moment they begin to shoot, and it turns out she may have a future in poker, because her estimate is correct and the exact moment they shoot out their tracer fire, Madge kills her engine, and lets her plane fall.

It was almost beautiful, watching the two planes explode above her as she hurtled towards the water. She allowed herself only seconds to indulge in the ironic beauty before she pulled on her lever with all her might, once, then twice, all the time her plane fell closer and closer to the dark channel waters. Finally, her plane roars back to life and Madge is able to make a flip and descend up again without being smashed into a thousand pieces upon impact.

“Where’re the escorts?” Gale asks her, sounding just as breathless as her.

“I got two-” Madge is cut off by her own scream when the tail of her plane is suddenly hit by cannon fire. She rips back her stick, but it’s too late; her fuselage has caught on fire.

“I’m going down,” Madge chokes, pulling up with all her might as the plane plummeted toward the waters once more. Behind her, she hears something exploding as her plane begins to rattle and shake.

“I got him,” Gale tells her. “Bail out.”

Madge reaches down below her seat and pulls on the backpack that has her parachute, and with one hand still trying to pilot of a steadily deteriorating plane, the other tries to open the canopy above her head.

It doesn’t budge.

“Mockingjay 2,” Gale calls out sharply. “Eject _now!”_

“It’s stuck!” Madge shouts, letting go of her stick and shoving the canopy with both hands with all her might. Nothing happens.

“Mocking-”

“Gale,” Madge cuts him off as she fights off her tears once more. “Please, take care of Mr. Abernathy, I’m all he has and he can’t take care of himself.”

“Don’t talk like that, Madge!” Gale shouts at her, sounding every bit panicked as she feels. “You’re gonna be ok, you hear me? I’m gonna get you back home, I promise.”

Madge considers telling him she loves him. It is her last chance, after all. She decides against it; she doesn’t want to imprint such acute trauma on his heart and mind. Gripping her controls as tightly as she can, Madge tries to land with the perfect angle. A degree off and the plane will shatter at impact, killing her.

Hitting the water feels like what she imagines being hit by a bus must feel like, but as she opens her eyes and water begins to fill up the cockpit through the cracks in her canopy, does she realize that she’s still alive!

The realization is quite literally dampened by the cold water that’s by now pooled around her ankles. She won’t stay alive for long if she can’t get out of the cockpit.

Madge tries to open the cockpit once more but to no avail. The water is nearly at her knees, chilling her legs terribly. Looking around, Madge tries to find something that she can use to smash the glass to escape. After a few moments of fruitless searching does she realize that she must quite literally use her head to escape.

Water up to her waist, Madge pulls off her helmet and hits it against the glass as hard as she can. A large crack appears.

Again and again, she hits the glass with all her might when suddenly, hundreds of tiny glass shrapnels fall on her as she finally breaks through. Standing up on nearly frozen legs, Madge hauls herself out of the cockpit using mainly her arms and drags herself towards the tail. Even if the cockpit is entirely submerged, the plane will remain buoyant as the wings, which are the largest part of the craft, are hollow.

Teeth chattering terribly, Madge realizes that from down here, she can’t see any boats nearby. If she had a target painted on her back for the Duitsies before, she was a sitting duck now. There was also the possibility of being attacked by a U-boat.

But as she looks around, she realizes that the waters around her are….black?

Scooting to the edge of the plane, Madge dips in her pinky, and sure enough, when she pulls it out, it’s smeared in oil.

Madge shuts her eyes tightly as a new level of vulnerability is added to her situation. Just a spark of fire and she could blow up back into the sky where she just was.

Deciding there was nothing she could do but wait, Madge crawls back to the center of the plane, right behind the cockpit, and wraps her arms tightly around her knees, trying to will some heat back into her aching muscles. She considers taking some of the rations from her pack but stops herself at the last moment. It could be days before she was rescued.

As she just sits there, gently bobbing with the waves under her, Madge lets herself grieve over Finnick’s death, and worry over Gale’s life. She curses herself for not being quick enough to dodge the cannon fire, and for leaving Gale out in the open, without any backup.

Hours pass and the sun begins to sink behind her and Madge forces herself to remain calm at the prospect of braving the night, floating on a broken plane in the English channel. Even if she survived aerial bombs and marine missiles, it’ll be up to nature entirely if she can endure the frigid winter temperatures of Europa.

Her eyes begin to droop involuntarily and she’s nearly fallen asleep when the unmistakable sound of propellers jolt her awake. Sure enough, descending from the dark skies is a 109.

And he’s heading straight for her.

Madge looks over at the black oil that floats alongside her, and the fuel tank of her plane. She’s positive there’s still some petroleum in there.

She looks back at the bandit rapidly approaching her. He’s going to kill her, she has no doubt of this, but she isn’t going to go down without a fight.

Standing up on legs still tremoring from the cold, Madge pulls a small pistol from her hip holster and points it straight at the incoming plane. The fact that he hasn’t open fired yet confirms what she was hoping for: he’s seen her gun, and now it’s become personal. He’s going to kill her at close range.

What the poor bastard doesn’t know is that she’s going to shoot her fuel tank, and she and her plane and all the oil around her will be more than enough to blow his plane straight out of the sky.

But she has to keep her gun trained on him till the very last second. If she deviates, he’ll figure out her plan and he’ll be able to shoot her from a safe range.

It’s as if the whole world has faded away as Madge waits patiently for her death. She doesn’t even allow herself to feel fear, grief, or even relief. All she feels is anger.

Madge shoots out her arm to point her gun at the tank, and in the next moment, a huge boom is heard.

The shockwave of the 109 falling into the water sends Madge toppling into the waters herself, and when she finally resurfaces, choking on oil and water and so so cold, she sees him.

Gale had shot down the 109, which meant….

Forcing her nearly frozen muscles to turn around, she saw that just yards from her was a huge minesweeper- and it had thrown down a rope ladder!

With her last reserves of strength, Madge forces her body to propel itself forward as she swam to the ladder. By the time she reached it, it was all she could do but cling to the rope ladder for dear life as the sailors hoisted her up.

She’s immediately wrapped in a scratchy blanket and someone tries to pull her along, telling her something along the lines of “let’s go in for some tea”. While Madge liked tea just as much as the next person, she didn’t understand their foreign ally’s obsession with it.

But now was not the time or place for tea, because Madge had a much more pressing matter at hand.

“Gale!” Madge shouts, pushing through the swarm of people on the dock. Sure enough, his plane is there, and he’s turned around! Madge looks at the space cleared for landing, it’s not much but Gale is a skilled pilot; he’ll make it.

It’s only when he’s very close does Madge realize that Gale is not going to make it, because he isn’t flying the plane!

“He’s gliding!” Madge shouts to a random sailor. “He’s out of gas--he’ll crash land at this speed!”

Someone must have heard her, because the next thing she knows, someone shouts, “Hoist the nets!”

Not understanding what was going on, Madge could only watch dumbly as a large net was strung up towards the end of the landing strip. Her stomach fell to her feet as she realized one flimsy net was the only thing in the way of Gale and his death.

Running closer to the strip, her eyes don’t leave his plane as he comes in. His angle is fine, but he’s too fast and in the next moment his tires land roughly as his plane speeds towards the net.

By a miracle of God, the net holds, and Gale’s plane is manually stopped.

Jumping over the barrier, Madge runs towards his plane and has just reached him when he jumps out of the cockpit. Before she can say anything to him, he catches sight of her and pulls her into his arms, crushing her into his embrace.

For a moment, Madge just stands there, melting into his arms, before she realizes she’s covered in oil and freezing seawater.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Madge tells him shyly, pulling away self-consciously.

Gale glares at her.

“We need to talk,” he says in a low voice and Madge’s heart spikes with anxiety. What was wrong?

They’re given a tiny room below deck with two bunks after tea and biscuits. Madge wishes desperately to bolt into the bathroom and take a warm shower before snuggling with two blankets, but she’s somehow even more desperate to know what Gale has to say.

He looks like he really wants to speak to, but doesn’t, when he sees how badly she’s still shaking.

“Go,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Clean up. Then we can talk.”

Madge nods and hurries into the bathroom. Though she tries to be quick, washing industrial oil from your hair is harder than one would think, and a good 45 minutes have passed when she finally rejoins Gale.

He no longer looks angry, just resigned.

“Here,” he says, getting out of his cot. “I warmed it up for you.”

Unable to stop her blush, Madge mumbles a thanks before crawling in, unable to contain her sigh of content when Gale brings up the blanket up around her shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Gale suddenly snaps, making her eyes which she hadn’t even realized had closed fly open. The anger is back. “I saw you with the gun. I know what you were going to do. How could you?”

Madge frowns at him, angry at him for being angry at something she had no choice in.

“I was going to die, Gale,” Madge reminds him flatly, watching the way that makes him tense up. ”I decided if I was going to, I may as well make my death useful.”

“You gave up!” Gale argues, nostrils flaring. “What if you had shot the bullet a second before I had? You can never do that again, do you understand me?”

“We’re not in a plane anymore,” Madge hisses furiously, turning her back on him and blinking away angry tears. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Gale makes a frustrated noise but says nothing to her. For a few minutes, she just listens as he paces angrily beside her. Madge wills her mind to fall asleep, but of course, it stubbornly refuses.

“I’m sorry,” Gale finally says, actually sounding contrite. “I just...don’t want you to die.”

Madge turns around to face him. “I felt the same way when I asked you to turn around, but you didn’t listen to me either.”

To her surprise, a small smile actually touches his lips.

“I guess you’re right,” he chuckles, taking a seat on the edge of her bunk. “We’re both pretty stubborn.”

Madge doesn’t think she’s stubborn, but she realizes that if she says that, she’ll just be enforcing the idea.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Gale says to her, staring down at her. “But can I ask something from you? As...someone from back home.”

She knows he doesn’t mean Panem. He means 12. God, it feels like a lifetime ago when he used to come to her backdoor with Katniss to sell strawberries. She never thought she’d miss that era of her life.

“Ok,” Madge says when she realizes he’s waiting for an answer.

“Don’t stop fighting,” Gale whispers, his gray eyes so intense she wants to look away, while at the same time, she’s magnetically held in place. “Even-even when you think there’s no point, just don’t stop fighting, ok?”

“Ok,” Madge whispers, something light flurrying in her chest. Before she’s able to reflect upon the feeling, Gale leans down and kisses her cheek, and all thought leaves her mind.

“Good,” he says sounding actually relieved. “Attitude like that will take you back home.”

"Why-why does it matter to you?" Madge breathes, her heart beating so quickly, she wouldn't be surprised if Gale heard it. "If I live or die?"

Gale looks conflicted as he searches for the answer before he finally sighs, shaking his head.

"This is why," he tells her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her softly on the lips.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, please don't ask me why they're using old technology in Panem. It just be like that.
> 
> Secondly, the first half did follow the movie pretty closely, so I hope it wasn't too boring. I also hope it was easy to follow for someone who hasn't seen the movie.


	20. Revelations

One of her favorite things about Gale Hawthorne was how… _into_ things he was. The day to day machinations of modern day life could easily grow boring and mundane, but not if you were with someone as intense and lively as Gale.

For example, as Madge stood next to him in front of the fold-up plastic table that held various soda liters, her cheeks hurt from grinning too hard as Gale practically raved that _yes_ , there absolutely was a difference between Coke and Pepsi, and anyone that couldn’t taste that was an idiot.

“Well, I’m more of a strawberry Fanta gal,” Madge giggles. “But I agree-Pepsi is superior.”

Gale grins at her before his expression becomes mischievous. “Oh really?”

Madge raises an eyebrow at him, still not able to totally repress her smile. “Really.”

“So if you’re telling me I fill up two cups up with Coke and Pepsi, you’ll be able to tell the difference?”

Madge suddenly slams her fist on the table, and she knows from the way he jumps slightly, she’s taken him by surprise. “Bring it on, Hawthorne.”

“Oh, it is _so_ on!” Gale tells her slyly, filling up two red cups with the respective sodas. “Go grab some crackers and meet me by the weeping willow.”

“Okay,” Madge giggles, wondering in the back of the mind why she was so giggly all of the sudden. As if she didn’t know why.

Trying not to look overly eager, Madge tries to keep her pace intermediate as she walks back to the bonfire where the rest of the group is congregated.

“Hey!” Johanna hollers at her as she trifles through the various snacks Peeta had brought. “You and gorgeous inventing a new drink over there? Took you long enough!”

“We’re conducting a scientific experiment, actually,” Madge tells her in a mock-serious voice. “So if you’ll excuse me.”

“Nerds!” Thom calls after her as she rushes (she’s stopped trying to not look eager) back to Gale.

“It’s only experimenting if it’s with a girl!” Finnick shouts, and Madge can make out Annie reprimanding him.

As he said, Gale is under a weeping willow right at the edge of the lake, the pale moonlight filtering in beautifully. Ducking under the low branches, Madge grins at him as she holds up the cracker packet before taking a seat next to him on the mossy grass.

“I hope you realize how much is riding on this,” Gale warns jokingly as he hands her the first cup. “Get this wrong, and I will lose all respect I had for you.”

“Oh, I thought you meant something important was riding on this,” Madge teases, earning a loud laugh from Gale.

“Ok, ok, no more stalling, drink it,” Gale says excitedly. Madge smiles at him and brings the cup to her lips. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply, wrinkling her nose as some of the bubbles get caught in her nostrils.

“Uh, princess, in case you misheard, I said _drink_ , not smell,” Gale points out. She can perfectly imagine the amused expression on his face.

“I’m heightening my sense of taste,” Madge says pretentiously, eyes still closed. “Clearly, you’re an amateur to fine food and drink tasting.”

“Clearly,” Gale snorts.

Madge takes a sip of the soda, sloshing it around in her mouth for a bit before finally swallowing. Hm…

“Here,” Gale says, and Madge’s eyes fly open in shock at the feel of something pressing against her lips. He’s feeding her a cracker.

“Close your eyes!” Gale admonishes. “Now who’s the amateur?”

Madge rolls her eyes before closing them again. She opens her mouth, and the tip of one of Gale’s fingers brush against her bottom lip for just a moment as he gives her the cracker. She’s suddenly lightheaded.

She feels stupidly self-conscious as she chews the cracker, and swallows a bit too quickly but ignores the dull pain of swallowing half-eaten food, instead holds out her hand.

“Next.”

“Pushy,” Gale teases, but he complies and hands her the cup.

She repeats her same process and finally reopens her eyes, and turns to an expectant Gale.

“The first was Coke, this is Pepsi,” she tells him confidently.

To her surprise, Gale just nods and sighs.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly, not quite looking at her.

Their game totally forgotten, Madge immediately answers. “Of course!”

“When I sat down I forgot which cup was which,” Gale deadpans.

There’s a beat of silence before a laugh rips through her throat, seizing her completely as she doubled over. Gale joins her almost immediately, and she’s laughing so hard, a tear actually escapes one of her eyes.

“Great, now I gotta pee,” Gale says in-between his laughter. He stands up and holds out a hand to Madge. She slips her hand into his, and she walks back to bonfire alone, she’s not smiling over the soda mishap anymore.

She’s in such a good mood, she doesn’t notice the strange expression on Katniss’s face, or the worried looks Annie keeps shooting her. It’s sweet Delly, though, who breaks the news to her.

“Hey Madge,” Delly says kindly as she takes a seat on the log next to her. “Can I talk to you about something?” 

“Mmhhmm,” Madge answers distractedly, still recalling the feel of Gale’s fingers on her hand and lip.

“Well I...you-you do know about Gale and Katniss, right?” she asks hesitantly, chewing her bottom lip worriedly.

“What?” Madge asks sharply, looking over at her as her heart suddenly fell to her stomach.

“He’s in love with her,” Delly tells her sadly. “Has been for a while now.”

It's as if someone's thrown a bucket of ice water on her.

“And Katniss?” Madge whispers, suddenly feeling as if she were detached from her own body.

Delly shrugs. “She told him she doesn’t know yet.”

Madge nods robotically before standing up. “I’m going to the lake,” Madge announces to no one in particular, a bit too loudly to be considered normal. Her heartbreak must be evident because no one follows her as she walks away from the fire.

It’s only when her back is to her friends and she’s just a few steps from the lake, does she let the tears fall.

How could she have been so stupid, to think that Gale Hawthorne might actually like _her_.

Her chest aches with hurt and she collapses on the lakeside, embarrassed at how obvious she must have been for Delly to confront her like that.

Oh God, did Gale know about her crush? The thought was so mortifying it brought out a sob from deep within her.

She felt embarrassed, jealous, humiliated, angry, heartbroken, and frankly, lead on. If Gale loves Katniss, and he knew about her feelings, why had he been so friendly with her?

Her emotional turmoil takes on a new layer as she feels shame. She couldn’t fault Gale for being nice. She was in this situation because she was a complete idiot.

She’s too deep in her heartache to notice the raised voices coming from the bonfire, instead wiping at the tears that just kept falling. What did Katniss have that she didn’t? Besides the beauty, spunk, and general tenacity of course.

Who was she kidding? If she was Gale, she’d want Katniss too. Guys like him just didn’t want girls like her.

Hugging her knees to her chest, Madge stares out at the moonlit waters dejectedly,  her heart low in her stomach.

“Madge?”

The sudden voice is so unexpected, that Madge nearly screams as she nearly jumps off the ground. Glancing behind her is quite literally the last person she wants to see at the moment.

“Hey,” she says, cringing at how teary she sounds. “I’d like to be on my own for a bit.”

“Ok, but first tell me, are you ok?” Gale asks worriedly, slowly walking so that he’s standing next to her. Madge pointedly looks away.

“Of course,” Madge sniffs, biting her lip to keep it from quivering. God was she pathetic to cry over a boy she had never even dated.

“Madge,” Gale pleads, sitting down next to her. “Please look at me.”

Madge doesn’t.

“Fine,” Gale sighs. From the corner of her eye, she sees him running a hand through his hair. “But I need to tell you something real quick, and then I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

Madge shrugs. Anything to get rid of him.

“What Delly told you was right,” Gale admits, and Madge shuts her eyes tightly as his words pierce her heart like a sword. Was he a sadist, rubbing salt into her open wound like this?

“But it’s also outdated,” Gale continues, sounding embarrassed. Madge doesn’t dare open her eyes, but her entire body stills as she waits for him to finish what he’s saying. “Did I love Katniss? Yes. A lot. Do I still do? Yes.”

God hated her.

“But not romantically!” Gale quickly adds and Madge isn’t sure if she’ll survive this emotional roller coaster.

“Just spit it out!” Madge snaps, finally looking at him. His face goes from surprised to pained as he takes in her sorrowful features. “Are you in love with Katniss?”

Gale doesn’t hesitate. “No.”

Her heart flutters hopefully, but Madge remains steadfast in not giving in prematurely. “And are you...are you in love with someone else?”

She can’t remember his gaze ever being so direct. “I think so.”

That isn’t enough for her.

“Then why didn’t you tell Katniss you’ve moved on?” Madge asks tiredly, too scared of being played again.

“It’s complicated, ok?” Gale sighs again. “Up until very recently, I was sure you’d never be into me, and Katniss has been acting pretty receptive to a relationship and I-well I…”

“Well I hope you and Katniss figure it out,” Madge says icily, getting up to stand and walk away from him forever, but his sudden grip on her wrist prevents that.

“I don’t want Katniss,” Gale tells her in a low voice, fire in his eyes. “I’m just trying to figure out a way to let her down when I was the one to raise the stakes. I can be into you and still be considerate of her feelings, right?”

Madge looks down at the sand, feeling ashamed once more.

“I’m sorry Gale,” Madge whispers. “For being so defensive, it’s just-I was so embarrassed and hurt, and I don’t want to go through all that again.”

Now it’s Gale who looks remorseful.

“I’ll clear things with Catnip,” Gale promises her, sliding his hand down her wrist to clasp her hand. “Then I’ll ask you out. And I promise to never intentionally embarrass or hurt you again.”

Madge intwines their fingers. “And you have to drink an entire liter of Coke.”

Gale’s laugh tells her that everything was going to be ok between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made the mistake of reading an everlark fic that...just DESECRATED both madge and gale's character and their relationship, so i wrote this to cope, lol.


	21. The Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None. This is loosely based off the MCU, so don't come at me if there are huge errors.

As Gale throws off yet another Hydra agent, he only hopes that Wiress’ intel was correct, and the infamous ‘Winter Soldier’ is here, because frankly, S.H.I.E.L.D just didn’t have any more time, and whoever this asshole is-he needs to go down.

Room cleared, he’s able to go back into the dimly light hallway and is making his way to its end, when suddenly, behind him, he feels a...nefarious presence.

Shield clenched tightly, Gale turns around.

His shield falls to the ground with a loud _clang!_

She’s standing at the end of the hallway. In the flickering blue-green light, her skin is pale and blonde hair saturated, but Gale recognizes her immediately, even with her hair down and the Hydra uniform. Even though she’s supposed to be dead.

“Madge?” Gale whispers, his heart both breaking and soaring because God almighty-she’s alive!

She throws an explosive at him.

He’s barely able to jump out of the way, crashing painfully against the metal floor when he sees her sprinting towards him.

He catches her as she launches herself at him and uses his superior mass to roll them over so he’s on top of her, as she writhes and struggles below him all the while.

“Madge!” Gale shouts, trying to clear the insanity that so clearly clouds her blue eyes. “It’s me-Gale!”

He realizes that she’s not struggling against him-she’s fighting something her brain is trying to tell her, the way her eyes scrunch up and her features contort painfully as she shakes her head no.

“It’s me,” Gale repeats, in a softer voice, eyes tracing over features he had last seen 70 years ago. “Your friend, Gale Hawthorne. We worked together, remember?”

She stills beneath him, features smoothening out, and opens her eyes. They’re still clouded.

“No,” she says in a voice so familiar, yet so distant. “I don’t.”

 

* * *

 

The house isn’t overly large, but its homely with a lush garden and a worn path leading up to its door. A lifetime ago, this would be the kind of home he’d want for his family.

Running a hand through his hair, he takes a deep breath and knocks.

A few moments pass before a middle-aged woman opens the door. He wonders if this is what Katniss would look like at this age, minus the blue eyes, of course.

“Yes?” the woman asks, and her voice is all wrong, nothing like what Katniss used to sound like.

Gale shakes his head to clear the memories. “I’m here to see your Dad...we’re old acquaintances.”

The woman looks obviously confused, probably wondering how her senior citizen father could be friends with a guy Gale’s age.

“Who’s there, Iris?” a frail man’s voice calls from inside the house. A moment later, Peeta Mellark appears at the door.

“Ah,” is all he says. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

* * *

 

“Here you are,” Iris says stiffly, shooting Gale another suspicious glance as she set down the tea tray. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Dad?”

Peeta waves a veiny hand at her. “We’re fine, my dear. I’ll see you next weekend?”

Iris nods, shoots Gale another look, and finally leaves.

“You’ll have to excuse her,” Peeta chuckles as he takes a small sip from a rose-printed teacup. The guy always had a girly taste in everything. “She’s a bit like her Mother when it comes to strangers.”

Gale just nods, unsure what to say. Truthfully, this entire ordeal is unnerving: he’s technically two years Peeta’s senior, and he just got served tea by the daughter of the woman he once thought he’d marry.

“I’m not here for Katniss,” Gale blurts, deciding its best to just get to the point and get out of here as fast as he can. “Well-not just for her, that is.”

Peeta just nods. “Then for what?”

Gale sighs as he closes his eyes, trying to push away the feelings that are attached to this topic. Emotions he’s been battling ever since the day he battled her. “I’m here for Madge Undersee.”

When he opens his eyes, Peeta finally looks shocked.

“What about her?” Peeta asks bewilderedly.

“Well, she and Katniss were friends, weren’t they?” Gale asks. “Do you...do you have any information about her I may not know?”

“Madge has been dead for years, longer than Katniss,” Peeta reminds him, almost sadly. “Why the sudden curiosity?"

“Because she isn’t dead,” Gale says in a hollow voice. “She’s the Winter Soldier.”

Peeta’s teacup crashes against the ground, shattering into pieces. There are tears in his eyes.

“Madge was a kind, sweet girl,” Peeta denies in a whisper. “That’s why she joined S.H.I.E.L.D, she’d never purposefully hurt someone!”

“I know,” Gale says miserably back. “The Madge I remember was quiet, kinda shy, and very hardworking. When I saw her, I thought I was going crazy. But you gotta believe me, it was her.”

“Did she recognize you?” Peeta asks, wiping away a tear.

“I..don’t know?” Gale answers truthfully. “I think HYDRA has her...under some psychosis, I don’t know. I thought maybe I could use some personal history about her to trigger back her memory and that would help her snap out of it.”

“She loved you,” Peeta says simply. “Use that.”

“What?” Gale tries to say casually but it comes out loudly.

“She loved you,” Peeta repeats. “A lot, from what I remembered. Enough to be happy for you and...Katniss.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s standing until his head nearly hits a low hanging chandelier. He doesn’t know how to process this-doesn’t know what to think or say. Hundreds of memories of a different life flood his vision. She had loved him? How had he not known? Why hadn’t he known?

“Don’t look so sad,” Peeta tells him softly. “God has given you another chance, has risen her from death itself. Save her, and save yourself.”

 

* * *

 

On the plane back to New York, Gale dreams about what life could have been like had he not been in the Super Soldier Program.

He would have gone back to the states after finshing up in Europe. Katniss would go off and marry doughboy, and he’d mope and move his family to the city. There, he’d reconnect with Madge, except instead of just working together again, it’d be a love connection.

They’d have a short courtship, and he’d buy them a house out in the suburbs after they had a small wedding. She’d stay home-or work, whatever she chose to do, and they’d have at least three kids. They’d grow old, and their kids would visit them on the weekends, scolding them for spoiling their grandchildren.

When the plane touches down and his eyes open, he wonders why this all hurts so much.

 

* * *

 

Ironman has his iron fist clenched around her slender neck.

“No!” Gale shouts, ignoring his teammate's request for backup, rushing towards Madge. Before he can reach them, however, Madge stabs something into the neck of the metal suit, and a large flash of electricity later, she’s on the ground gasping for breath as the suit shuts down, trapping Beetee inside of it.

She’d always been smart.

“Gale!” Beetee calls to him through their linked earpieces. “You have to-”

Gale rips off his earpiece, throwing it far from him.

“Come on,” Gale says to Madge gently, offering her a hand up. “The manual restart will happen any second now.”

Madge just stares at him, before putting her hand in his. He smiles at her as he pulls her up, lost in the clearness of her blue eyes.

And then the floor blows up.

Turns out the level below them hadn’t fared as well either, because he lands with half his body on the ground, the other half over a large hole that sits on top of hot flames, presumably the level that had exploded.

Before he can get up, he feels a weight settle on his torso, and Madge clenches his uniform by the neck.

He looks at her before letting his head fall back again.

“Do it,” he whispers. “It’s only fair.”

“Why?” her second word to him after nearly a century.

“I let you die,” Gale cries, shutting his eyes tightly as he sees her body falling down into the glaciers. “I should have saved you, but I couldn’t. So let me fall, Madge. Make us even.”

She died by ice. He by fire. It was only fair.

But Madge doesn’t push him or even gets off. He opens his eyes to see her staring down at him, a multitude of expressions on her face, but the most prominent one is pain.

“Gale Hawthorne,” Madge whispers. “Six-four. From West Virginia. Three younger siblings.”

Gale gives her a weak smile. “That’s me.”

“Grumpy, intelligent, resourceful, brave,” Madge continues, her voice cracking as tears begin to fall from her large eyes. “You screamed my name when I fell.”

Gale lifts a weary hand and places it gently against her cheek. “I did. I’m so sorry, Madge.”

“Why?” Madge’s face crumples. “Why are you sorry? You should hate the monster that they-that they’ve made me.”

“I could never hate you,” Gale tells her immediately. “Never. And you’re not a monster. I’ve always seen you as an angel. Even now.”

Madge gets off of him and pulls him out of the pit of hell. He pulls her into a hug and kisses her hair as she cries into his chest. He won’t let her go. Not again.

“Gale.”

Gale looks up to see Beetee holding up a charged hand towards him.

“Step away from her,” Beetee instructs in a hard voice. “And let’s finish this.”

Gale stands up with Madge still in his arms, her face in his chest as he angles his body to protect hers. “Touch her, and I’ll kill you.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Iron Man warns, not lowering his hand.

“No,” Gale chuckles, holding Madge even tightly to him. “I’m finally correcting them.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone with actual knowledge of Marvel should write a fic like this so I can read the hell out of it, lol


	22. Indebted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content Warning: Referenced suicide

The day was bright and sunny, uncharacteristic for November in 12.

The small District is quieter than usual, and a somber, yet tense atmosphere settles amongst the coal dust as its residents wonder what will come next. Surely, nothing good.

Mayor Undersee had died yesterday from a heart attack, despite no record of heart disease in his medical history and his extended family’s.

Today was his funeral.

Coincidentally or not, today was his wife’s funeral too. Her official autopsy read, “Morphling Overdose” which was a polite way of saying “Suicide”.

Madge isn’t sure if her Mother had meant to die when she had taken two doses instead of her usual one, but all she knows is that it’s easier to think she killed herself because then Madge can hate her. And Madge has to hate her, or else she’ll shatter if she has to grieve both her parents. So let one be a martyr, and the other a coward. She’s still deciding what she’ll be.

There is a gathering at the burial. Certainly not a crowd, but there are more people in attendance than Madge had been expecting. They’re all Seam, as well. Of course, she’s the only one standing in the spot reserved for family.

The final injustice of her Father’s life is that a random Capital man was chosen to deliver the eulogy; everything carefully scripted, of course. Madge closes her eyes and blocks out the empty words of praise delivered by a man that didn’t even know her Father and imagines what his funeral should have been like.

He’d have several grandkids and even more great-grandchildren. Old friends who knew just how hard and nobly he worked would attend, and would weep as they told the world of his greatness.

When she opens her eye, the Capital man is staring at her expectantly, a silent warning in his dark eyes. Madge shakes her head, refusing the opportunity to stand up and speak. She has nothing to say.

At least, nothing that won’t end up with her buried next to her parents.

Finally, the wretched ordeal is over, and the sparse attendees come over and offer their nervous condolences, before quickly leaving. It seemed that the District was aware of the “mysterious” circumstances surrounding their late Mayor’s death.

At last, she’s alone in the graveyard, and she sinks to her knees at the feet of the fresh graves, and stares at the dirt, wondering if perhaps she was a very evil person in a past life, and so she was being punished now.

“Undersee.”

Despite her grief, she’s present enough to start badly at the sudden voice, and her hand flies to her heart as she whirls around to see who had just said her surname.

Her mouth opens slightly at the sight of Gale Hawthorne standing before her, in an old but well-pressed suit.

“I’m sorry,” he says gruffly, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking at his feet. “I didn’t know your Mom, but she couldn’t be half bad if your Dad married her.”

Madge nods, lowering her hand from where it lay on her chest, letting it fall flatly onto her lap.

“Thank you,” she doesn’t mean to whisper, but her voice is still scratchy from crying all night. She expects him to nod back and walk away, but to her surprise, he does neither.

Crouching down, Gale picks up a fistful of dirt before opening his palm, letting a frigid breeze blow it out from between his fingers.

“It was after Thread came,” Gale starts quietly, watching the dirt escape his hand. “That people realized just how much Mayor Under-your Dad, had been protecting us.”

Judging by the draw of his shoulders, Gale was one of these enlightened people.

“At least, the Seam did,” Gale says bitterly, tossing down the dirt and sitting down next to her fully. “I can’t believe not a single Merchant came. Assholes.”

She could think of one Merchant that’d come, but he was still “enjoying” his honeymoon in the Capital.

“They were making a statement,” Madge tells him quietly, unafraid of bugs. After all, the dead can’t conspire. “They don’t want to associate with the Mayor, dead or alive.”

Madge watches the understanding suddenly dawn in his gray eyes.

“What are you going to do after this?” Gale tries to ask nonchalantly, but it still comes out rushed.

Madge shrugs her shoulders. “The only job whose contract comes with a house.”

 _“No,”_ Gale says so forcibly that Madge starts again. “Undersee, you _cannot_ take a job in the mines!”

Madge breathes sharply through her teeth. “I don’t have many options, Gale,” Madge snaps. “They’ve given me three days to clear my belongings, and what then? No Merchant is going to take in the daughter of the murdered Mayor, and I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to expose my family to such danger either.”

“You can’t go into the mines,” Gale repeats, even has the audacity to look angry. “Listen to me, there are _very_ few lady miners, but _every_ single one of them that goes down is in the same crew as her husband. This is not a mistake or fluke.”

“So then what should I do?” Madge shouts, no longer able to control her emotions. “Huh? Kill myself? Run away into the woods? Become Thread’s personal who-”

“You can marry me.”

Madge can’t help it. She bursts out laughing. Perhaps grossly inappropriate to do so when her parents haven’t even been below ground for an hour, but really, what can she do?

“Go home, Gale,” Madge says when she quiets, feeling hollower than before. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the mine.”

One of Gale’s hands shoots out ans clasps her hand tightly, while the other one is gentle as it tips her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. Somewhere deep, her broken heart begins to beat again.

“I know about the morphling,” Gale whispers, despite the fact he doesn’t have to, his eyes never once leaving hers. How were they so gray? “Ma told me this morning. Let me help you like how you helped me.”

Tears blur his face. “I can’t,” Madge chokes. “I’ll only endanger your family…”

Gale lets go of her hand to brush away her tears with his index finger. A hauntingly familiar gesture, even though he’s never touched her like that before.

“No you won’t,” Gale assures her, his fingers wet against her skin as he cups her cheek. The hand that was holding her chin up moves to tuck a lock of her back behind her ear before cupping her other cheek. “The Mockingjay’s interfering ‘cousin’ happily married? The Mayor’s daughter shackled to a lowly miner? It fits all their agendas. We’ll be safest together.”

Madge considers his words. A happy life in the Seam was still considered a tragedy by most...Could she really take off the target from her back by marrying Gale?  
“You’ll be getting the short straw of this deal,” Madge argues, trying desperately not to fall to selfish desires. “You deserve at the very least a wife you love, with whom you can have children. There’s no need for you to be stuck with me.”

For a while, Gale doesn’t say anything, just watches her very closely. The thumb of his right hand tracing the upwards curve of her cheekbone, the sun warm on her back, despite the cold temperatures. Eventually, Madge closes her eyes and lets herself indulge his tender touch. Who knows if she’ll ever be held like this again, when she hears Gale shift.

When she opens her eyes, it’s to Gale’s own eyes just centimeters away from hers. And then he kisses her.

It’s so soft she almost cries. His lips are almost reverent as they press against hers, and when he takes her bottom lip between his, like a rose and the morning dew, she sinks into him, his arms coming around her to anchor her tightly against him.

When he pulls away, he stays close enough that their lips are still brushing, but so that they can breathe too.

“Marry me, Madge,” Gale’s voice sounds like a prayer. “Be my wife, be who I come home to, and I swear, I’ll be your friend, your protector, your family.”

“This goes beyond a debt,” Madge breathes, her lips caressing his with every word. “Surely you…”

He kisses her again and Madge stops thinking.

“There isn’t a girl in this District as kind, or brave, or beautiful as you,” Gale tells her, taking her by total surprise. “Throw this dog a bone, and let him repay his debt in a selfish way.”

He’s buttering her up. Surely, he can’t mean any of that, not when he loves Katniss...but Katniss is married now, and Madge’s parents are dead. Gale is under Snow’s scrutiny for his relationship with Katniss, and Gale has to take care of his Mother and three siblings….

“Ok,” Madge says finally. “I’ll marry you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone: P-please....stop recycling the same trope. We're begging you.
> 
> Me: Never....


	23. Indebted 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: M
> 
> Content warning: None

If Madge thought the Mayor’s house was lonely before, it was nothing compared to the emptiness that permeated through it now.

After some arguing with Gale (it was still surreal to think of him so casually), Madge was able to convince him to let her take one more day to pack before they could get married. His impatience would have been endearing if this wasn’t all a ruse to get the Capital off their backs.

Most of the things in the Mayor’s house actually belongs to the Capital, including her dear piano, so in the end all Madge has packed is a large suitcase with her clothes, and a few of her Father’s that she thinks will fit Gale, and various knick-knacks Mr. Abernathy had brought back from the Capital for her.

She’s sitting in her childhood room, in front of the pearl white vanity, half-heartedly brushing her long hair, when a knock on the door interrupts her.

“I still have one more day,” Madge murmurs to herself, suddenly worried that she’d be evicted early. Hurrying down the spiral staircase, Madge opens the front door and doesn’t find any Capital workers. It’s her to-be mother-in-law.

“Madge,” Mrs. Hawthorne greets her warmly, stepping forward and engulfing her in a hug, taking Madge by surprise. “How are you, dear girl?”

“F-fine,” Madge stutters, still surprised at her sudden appearance. She’s never held a conversation with the woman before, and in an hour she’ll be marrying her son.

Mrs. Hawthorne lets go of her and steps back, but gives her a warm smile. “I thought I’d come and help you get ready…?”

“Oh,” Madge blinks several times. She hadn’t even thought about putting any particular effort into her appearance for her wedding. “Yes, no, yes that’d be great.”

Mrs. Hawthorne’s smile becomes sad. “I am sorry about your parents. I wish they could be here, too.”

Madge bites her tongue from saying that if they were still alive, this wouldn’t be happening, but she just nods and gives a strained smile, gesturing for the older woman to follow her up to her room.

Mrs. Hawthorne seems unimpressed with the outfit Madge had picked out, and pretty soon her suitcase is reopened as Gale’s mother roots carefully through her clothes.

“Ohh,” Mrs. Hawthorne squeals almost like a schoolgirl as she pulls out a lavender dress with lace flowers embroidered around its bodice. “You’ll look like a doll in this!”

“It was my Mother’s,” Madge says quietly, fingering the chiffon material. “I’ve never worn it before.”  
“It’s perfect, then,” Mrs. Hawthorne says gently, pulling something out of her coat’s pocket. “Because I want you to wear something Gale’s Mother did when she was married.”

In her palm is an ivory hair clip. It’s a simple design of a flower and it’s two leaves, but it still makes Madge’s throat close.

“Mrs. Hawthorne, I couldn’t possibly wear this,” Madge protests, holding up her hands. “This obviously means a lot to you and I-”

“And you will be my daughter, in less than an hour,” Mrs. Hawthorne interrupts, her eyes wet. “Madge, ever since that night, I have been silently hoping for this day to happen. You have no idea how happy I am, right now.”

Madge stares at her with wide eyes, knowing exactly which night she was referring to.

“Well I….alright,” Madge agrees weakly, taking the clip in her hand and running a finger over its smooth surface.

“Now,” Mrs. Hawthorne says, her voice back to its usual no-nonsense tone. “Where is your makeup?”

Forty minutes later Madge is more or less transformed in her Mother’s dress, hair pinned back by Mrs. Hawthorne’s pin, and face in an even coat of makeup all around.

“You are so beautiful,” Mrs. Hawthorne sighs, resting a hand on her heart. “You’ll be breaking a lot of hearts today, Madge.”

_I seriously doubt that._

She shrugs on her blue peacoat and has a brief battle of wills with Mrs. Hawthorne over shoes. She loses and is forced into black heels.

Mrs. Hawthorne walks her to the Justice building, her arm linked with Madge’s, and Madge can’t help but be grateful for her presence. She’s managed to bring a semblance of normalcy to this sad day, and Madge can admit she’s almost...excited, as Mrs. Hawthorne fills her in on the details of the family she will soon be part of.

Finally, they reach the large building, and Madge gingerly walks down the hall to the room where marriage certificates are signed. Inside are several people sitting on the chairs lined against the wall, all Hawthorne.

Gale is the first to stand. He’s wearing the same suit he wore to the funeral, but he’s shaved and must have recently showered because she’s never seen his hair so neat and shiny. He’s so handsome it’s unfair.

“Are you Madge?” Gale’s sister, Posy pipes up before Gale can say anything. Madge nods and smiles shyly. “You’re pretty!”

“Thank you,” Madge says quietly, her face way too hot for a compliment from a five-year-old.

“Yeah,” a boy who looks almost identical to Gale, but younger says amusedly. “Way too pretty for _Gale.”_

Another boy, who’s younger and Madge assumes to be Vick nods seriously, looking totally incredulous.

“Is it true that you’re only marrying Gale because he got you pregnant?” Vick asks with great concern while Rory nearly falls out of his chair laughing.

“Shut up!” Gale snaps, looking ready to throttle his brother. “Who told you that crap?”

“Rory,” Vick says as if that’s obvious. Rory does not stop laughing, even under Gale’s death glare.

“Mama, what’s pregnant?” Posy asks confusedly, looking between her brothers as if there’s some clue there.

“Nothing,” Mrs. Hawthorne says tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose, before straightening and giving Madge a gentle push. “Now go on you two, we’ll be back here, cheering you two on!”

“Madge, you still have time to run!” Rory calls after her, only to be immediately be swatted by his Mother.

“I’m sorry,” Gale sighs as they walk to the counter. “I’d say he’s not always like this but he is.”

“It’s ok,” Madge says with a smile. “I always wanted siblings.”

She looks away quickly when Gale smiles back at her, and soon the woman at the counter is inputting their information into her computer before she pulls out a certificate.

“Sign here,” she says in a croaky voice, an ancient finger pointing to the designated lines. “I’ll go get the key.”

Gale signs first since he was handed the pen, and then it’s finally her turn. For the last time in her life, she signs her name as _Margaret Undersee._

She was officially Margaret _Hawthorne._

Unable to shake the misty feeling one has when they realize they’re dreaming, Madge watches as Gale takes the key to their new home as if she’s floating outside of her body. Gale reaches down to hold her hand and gently tugs her over to the white wall the newlyweds stand in front of to have their photo taken. A complimentary gift from the Capital, so to say, for getting married.

“Madge!” Mrs. Hawthorne whispers loudly, even though there’s no need to be quiet. “Your coat!”

Oh. She had forgotten she still had it on. Shrugging it off, Madge hands it to Mrs. Hawthorne, who quickly moves behind the camera again. Gale takes her hand in his again.

“Wow.”

Madge looks up and sees Gale staring at her dress, a hazy look in his eyes.

“Pretty dress,” he whispers, and Madge can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of her.

And that’s what their wedding photo is. Madge laughing softly at Gale as he leaned into her, hands still intertwined, a wide grin on his face, dimples in full bloom. The photo is so nice that if a stranger saw it, they’d be convinced the couple was genuinely in love.

 

* * *

 

Their home is very similar to the other ones in Seam, but they’re lucky enough to have a metal fence and a wrap around porch and the yard even has grass. A little. The roof seems to be mostly intact and the shutters are even painted blue. Chipped, but painted nevertheless.

The Hawthorne kids, who had kept her entertained during the walk dart in front of her and rush into the house, excited to take in its interior.

“I’ll go get the food and let everyone know you’ve arrived,” Mrs. Hawthorne says excitedly before rushing down the lane to what Madge assumed was her house.

Looking at him in panic, Madge asks, “Who is she telling?”

“Just some of my friends,” Gale quickly assures her, squeezing her hand. She had thought he’d let it go after the picture, but after putting on her coat again, he had taken it again.

“Oh,” Madge says quietly, still not comfortable with the idea of strangers attending her sham of a wedding reception.

Gale leads her up the rickety porch stairs, and Madge is about to go through the door Vick had left ajar when suddenly Gale scoops her up into his arms.

“Oh, my-Gale!” Madge exclaims as her arms automatically go around his neck to steady herself. “What are you doing?”

“It’s tradition,” Gale chuckles, toeing the door more ajar before stepping in. There’s a couch, a small tv stand with a clunky tv, and further away is a small wooden table in front of a roaring hearth.

“You have three bedrooms!” Posy tells her excitedly, coming out from the hallway to the side. “We only have two!”

“Your bathroom is a lot bigger than ours too,” Rory grumbles, crossing his arms petulantly.

“You have a shed too!” Vick informs them, sharing Posy’s enthusiasm. “This is so cool, Gale, we’re neighbors now!”

“Good riddance,” Rory says, but Posy’s face crumbles.

“Gale is leaving?” Posy wails as she looks to her three brothers. It seems the concept of marriage was only now hitting the little girl.

Gale gives her an apologetic look before setting her down and going to Posy, picking her up.

“I’ll be right across the street, Pose,” Gale soothes, bouncing up and down in his arms. Madge should be annoyed, she supposes, for having three kids interrupting her first few moments in her home, but Gale seems so at ease with Posy, that her chest is filled with warmth as she watches them interact.

“HELLO!”

Madge jumps at the loud voice, and a guy around Gale’s age bursts in, looking absolutely jubilant.

“Wow, you look good close up too,” he comments when he sees her. Before Madge can reply, he moves on, practically throwing himself on Gale, squishing Posy between them. “Oh _Gale_ , I am so happy for you!”

“Get off, idiot,” Gale hisses, pushes his friend away, his face dark. Turning to Madge, he introduces his friend. “This Thom, District idiot.”

“I prefer comic,” Thom tells her as he fist bumps Rory and ruffles Vick’s hair. Soon more people arrive, along with Hazelle who’s brought over a large pot of stew. As she sips from her bowl, Madge can’t help but guiltily wonder how they were able to amass so much food.

Alcohol is also passed around, although Madge politely declines. Rory gets sent home when he’s caught with a cup. An elderly man with a long beard brings over a fiddle, and Madge is frankly shocked at the kindness her neighbors are showing her. Perhaps they see that she isn’t a threat, not anymore. More than a few times, amongst the music laughter and cheer and the blazing hearth, her eyes grow damp, and she wishes again this was all real.

Mrs. Hawthorne surprises her once more when hands her a bread basket, a loaf of rye bread nestled between cloth like a newborn.

“It’s not official without a toasting,” she says with a wink, nudging them both towards the hearth.

Madge looks at Gale uncertainly, but he just gives her a warm smile, and suddenly, she knows what she has to do. Going over to her coat, she takes out her most prized possession and guards it tightly in her hand, and nods to Gale. He looks a little confused, but kneels in front of the hearth, facing her. Madge does the same. This is when their guests begin to sing.

_My love to my bride with dear caresses,_

_Each virtue most rare her_ soul’d possesses _,_

_And fair and sweet has she grown totally!_

_My thoughts used to rove in boyish folly_

_But now I’m her own,_

_My heart is fully my darlings alone..._

Gale reaches into his coat and pulls out a small satchel, from that, he removes a small loop of rope, knotted into….a _bow_.

Madge understands at once what his little snare symbolized; with the fence on all the time now, it was impossible to bring out his bow from the woods, and yet, Gale and brought it anyway.

“As a token of my vow, I bring you rope,” Gale’s deep voice reverberates below her sternum, and it’s all she can do but watch the light of the flames dance across his strong jaw and high cheeks, illuminating his gray eyes so that they glowed. “No matter the distance, I will reach you, and I will protect and honor you in every way a man can a woman.”

Madge takes the rope from him, fingering it’s rough material softly before setting it down in her lap. She extends her hand and opens it, palm up.

“As a token of my vow, I bring you my Father’s watch,” Madge tells him, only him-no longer aware of the eyes watching them. “Regardless of the time or place, I will be there for you in every way a wife can.”

Gale’s eyes are wide as he takes the watch from her, sliding it onto his right wrist, Gale holds out his hand, and Madge gently clasps the watch so that it sits snug below his hand. It should have been harder, to have given away her dear Father’s watch, but the silver of its band looks so in place as it contrasts against the dark of his skin.

Gale takes out the loaf and holds one end out to her, which she grasps with her right hand. They both tug, and Gale takes out a small piece to toast and skewers it. The rest will be finished by them later.

Gale takes out the browned bread, and his eyes don’t stray from hers as he breaks off a piece.

“I take you as my wife,” Gale says solemnly, holding the morsel to her lips. She opens her mouth and although it’s just plain Rye bread, never has she eaten something more delicious.  
And then it’s her turn.

She hopes that no one notices how her hands are shaking as she brings the bread to Gale’s lips.

“I take you as my husband,” Madge whispers, and her heart bursts as Gale’s lips brush her fingers as he takes the bread.

“Kiss her!” Rory hollers. It seems he had snuck back into the party. Madge is still smiling at her new brother-in-law when Gale gently tips her head back and kisses her.

This kiss is _nothing_ like the one they had at the graveyard. It sets her blood on fire.

It’s only when she hears the whistles and the cat-calls does she gently push Gale away. That hazy look is back in his eyes.

After that the guests begin to trickle out, offering them their congratulations once more. Mrs. Hawthorne and Posy are the last to leave.

Crouching down, Madge pokes the younger girl’s still chubby cheek.  
“I’m sorry for taking Gale away from you,” Madge whispers to her. “But if you want, you and I can play every day.”

Posy’s eyes light up and she jumps up and down with excitement.

“Can I play with Madge tomorrow Mama?” Posy cries happily, pulling on her Mother’s skirt.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Hawthorne says amusedly. When Madge stands up again, she gives her one more hug. “Welcome to our family, Madge.”

She has the strangest urge to cry when they leave.

“Everyone gone?” Gale calls from their kitchen. He’s putting away the gifts of the food nature away. Madge picks up a stack of used plates and joins him, once again touched by the kindness of the Seam; for people who had so little, they gave so much.

“Yes,” she answers quietly, as she begins to fill their cupboards with the plates. They’ll need to buy more, but at least until then they don’t have to eat from the pot.

“Tired?” Gale asks. Madge just shrugs, wondering what comes next.

Should she sleep with him? Did she want to sleep with him? Did he even want to sleep with her? It’s hard to believe she had her first kiss day before yesterday.

A blessed knock on the door gets Gale to leave the kitchen, and Madge sags against the counter in relief. They’ve been married for less than a day and she already wants to escape his presence.

“It’s your bag,” Gale says as he passes by the kitchen. “I’ll take it to our room.”

Well damn, there went her plans of sleeping on the sofa.

After drinking a glass of water and fluttering around the kitchen, Madge realizes she can’t put off the inevitable and heads to their bedroom.

Gale is spreading a sheet on a mattress that lies on the ground. Madge kicks off her heels and picks up the folded blanket, and Gale helps her spread that as well. Once the two pillows are in their respective pillowcases, the bed is totally made.

“Plaid,” Madge comments on the blankets design uselessly, trying to alleviate the awkward tension. “Nice.”

“Madge,” Gale sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t-I don’t want you to feel...weird around me. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

Madge hesitates before making a decision. Their marriage will be founded on honesty. At least on her side.

“It feels too real,” Madge confesses in a whisper, looking down at the lavender material pooling around her feet. “I have to keep reminding myself this isn’t real.”

Gale steps so close to her, that she can feel the heat coming off of him.

“It can be real,” Gale in a voice so low her toes curl. “But only….only if we let it.”

Madge closes her eyes because she can’t bear to see his face if his answer isn’t what she hopes. “Do you want it to be real?”

His answer is immediate. “More than anything.”

“Then….” Madge turns around so that her back is to him. “Will you unzip my dress?”

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the scratchy sound of a zip being undone. When Gale’s fingers brush the base of her spine, Madge turns back around and removes her arms from her chest, letting the dress fall down her body like a cascade.

Gale’s eyes look almost black as they slowly drag down her body. Madge has never felt more nervous, while at the same time, she’s never felt more confident. She reaches up and undoes the hair clip, letting her hair fall free. Somehow, Gale's eyes darken further.

Gale takes a step towards her, and like a ripple, she takes a step back. They continue this two-step dance until Madge’s shins hit the mattress and she lets herself fall back with a small bounce.

Gale quickly crawls over her, and as he looms over her all Madge can think when both his hands and mouth roam every inch of her is _this is real this is real this is_ so _real._

 

* * *

 

Physics would probably say that Gale’s body weight would crush her, but as she lay pinned against the mattress with Gale practically on top of her, Madge is more comfortable than she’s ever been, save the dull ache between her legs, although, even that, in a weird way, almost feels good. Under him, she feels feminine, wanted, protected, even...loved.

Gale shifts slightly, the arms around her torso tightening as he lazily kissed her neck. In response, Madge rubs the calve of her leg in between his against the calve of his right leg, earning a hum of contentment from Gale.

Leaving one hand in his hair to continue its gentle scratching, Madge lets her other hand drift down until it rests below his shoulder blades. That’s when she feels the scars. Above her, Gale tenses and removes his lips from her neck.

Turning her head so she can look him the eye, she finds him staring at her, multiple emotions in his eyes.

Not breaking eye contact, Madge’s hand slowly travels down his back, her fingers rising and falling with the raised ridges of scar tissue.

“It’s not pretty,” Gale says hoarsely, closing his eyes tiredly. Madge leans forward and kisses him

“It’s not,” she agrees quietly. “But they-” her voice cracks as tears gather in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Gale coos worriedly, kissing away her tears. “I’m fine, promise.”

“I know,” Madge sniffles, wrapping both her arms around his neck to pull him totally flush against her as her mind recalls that awful day. “I just hate that it happened.”

“Me too,” Gale jokes weakly, his hand tracing up and down her hip.

“I don’t find them ugly,” Madge tells him because he needs to know this. “We all have scars, yours are just easier to see.”

Gale looks at her closely, before nodding. “I guess we do…”

Madge has nearly fallen asleep when Gale speaks again.

“Thank you,” he says into her hair. “For saving my life, that night.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Madge responds sleepily. “I’d do it a hundred times over, for you.”

Gale lifts his head to look at her. “Why?”

Madge can’t keep her eyes open, Gale’s thoroughly exhausted her. “I saw the fire inside of you. I couldn’t bear for it to burn out.”

“It had,” Gale whispers. “You rekindled it.”

Madge forces her eyes open to smile at him. “Then let me be your kindling, husband.”

Gale cups her cheek, her Father’s watch brushing against her jaw as he leaned down to kiss her. “You already are, wife.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I've always wanted to write a toasting. The folk song the wedding guests sing is "Fair Young Mary". I took some artistic liberties with it.


	24. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: G
> 
> Content warning: None

Madge is in the middle of a song when the back door is knocked. Her fingers crash on the wrong keys of her piano in surprise, and Madge stiffens as she tries to imagine who would be visiting the Mayor’s house on a Sunday afternoon.

Wishing her Father were home, Madge walks nervously to the kitchen where the back door is. A white lace curtain covers its window, so she can’t see who’s knocking. Sliding open a drawer, Madge pulls out a butcher’s knife and hides it behind her back. Better safe than sorry.

Hand tightening her grip on the knife, Madge takes a deep breath and flings the door open.

“Katniss?” Madge squeaks in surprise. She’s so stunned to see her lunch-room acquaintance at her house, that it takes her a moment to realize she’s not alone.

Standing next to Katniss is the cutest guy Madge has seen. The immediate sight of him is enough to set off a fluttering in her stomach, tingles in her limbs, but the most overwhelming feeling is in her chest. It feels as if it's on fire.

He looks older than them, but his frame, though very tall, is still boyish in how lean it is. He looks nervous, from the way his shoulders are drawn and how his eyes keep darting all around, as if waiting for a peacekeeper to jump out.

“Hi Madge,” Katniss greets tersely. Madge has to force her eyes away from Katniss’s companion, who, for some reason, had begun scowling at Madge like she spat in his porridge when he finally looked over at her. “Would you be interested in buying some….um, stuff?”

Blinking rapidly, Madge finally notices the bag around Katniss shoulder and puts two and two together. The entire District knows of Katniss’ hunting; she had come to sell her spoils.

“What do you have?” Madge asks, her voice much higher than usual. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop looking over at the guy with Katniss. Surely...he wasn’t her boyfriend?

No, Katniss was too sensible for dating at 13. But still, his presence alone was enough to make her heart race, something no guy has ever been able to do. The heat in her chest still hasn't abated, nor the tingling or flurrying.

“Squirrels, acorns, a bunch of herbs and strawberries,” Katniss lists, shrugging off her bag and opening it up so that Madge can see its contents.

Madge leans over to peer into the bag, only to immediately recoil.

“No squirrel, please,” Madge nearly gags as she shuts her eyes, trying to erase the image of the poor, slain woodland creature in Katniss’ bag.

The boy scoffs, and when Madge opens her eyes, he’s looking at her with such unabashed hatred, it nearly makes her cry.

“How much for the strawberries?” Madge asks softly, staring down at her feet, mortified at how she had made herself look like a weak-stomached fool.

She feels rather than sees Katniss and the mean boy exchange a glance. Suddenly, Madge is struck with an idea on how to redeem herself.

“Can I see the strawberries?” Madge asks Katniss, who nods. She produces a bucket, sure enough, brimmed with plump red berries.

“Just a second,” Madge tells her quickly, retreating into her house and up into her Father’s study where he kept some money. Pulling out a fistful of coins-much more than what they would cost at the market, Madge bounds down the stairs, remembers to set the knife down, and presents the coins to Katniss.

Katniss looks at the coins in her outstretched hands uncertainly, but before she can reject the clear overpay, Madge says, “My Father has um...a big taste for them, and they’re never at the grocers. You’re doing me a huge favor.”

Her Father could care less about strawberries, but Katniss didn’t need to know that. Besides, Madge has always felt bad at how meager Katniss’ lunches were; maybe now she could eat better.

Katniss takes the money and pockets it. Madge assumes that she’ll split it with mean boy later. Grabbing a bowl from the kitchen, Madge lets Katniss dump the strawberries into it.

Daring a final glance at him, Madge finds that the nervousness is mostly gone from him, he just looks very irritated, and his scowl deepens as their eyes meet.

“Nice meeting you,” Madge murmurs to him. Just because he was rude to her didn’t mean she’d be impolite to him. She just hoped that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.

“Yeah?” he sneers, gray eyes flashing dangerously. If he wasn’t being so unpleasant, she would have swooned at the deep, smoky timbre of his voice. “Princess meeting her lowly subjects, right?”

Oh, he made her so mad, she wished she could slap the handsome right off his face!

“My name is Madge,” she replies tightly, her free hand curling into a fist tightly.

“Gale,” he offers, more sarcastic than anything, before turning away and walking down the porch steps.

Katniss shoots her a grimace and trails quickly after him.

Madge is still downright furious at _Gale_ as she munches angrily on the tangy fruit. How dare he-what did she ever do to him? On top of it all, it had taken just two bites for Madge to realize she had quite a taste for strawberries, which of course, would be permanently linked to Gale in her mind.

“Love?”

Starting at the sudden sound of her Mother’s voice, Madge races up to her room. Mother is sitting with her back against the headboard, a serene smile on her gaunt face.

“Are you alright, Mother?” Madge asks a little breathlessly from her running.

“Oh, yes,” Mother answers in her quiet voice. “Won’t you sit with me?”

Madge can’t stop her grin when she hears that, and quickly scrambles up so that she’s practically tucked into her side.

“Who were you talking to?” Mother asks, taking Madge’s hand in hers.

“Oh,” Madge says, surprised she had heard that. “My...friend, from school.”

Mother looks at her questioningly. “The boy too?”

Just how much had she heard?

“No,” Madge spits, bunching the comforter in her free hand, angry all over again.

“Describe him,” Mother requests quietly, closing her eyes.

The last thing Madge wants to do is talk about him, but she can’t say no to her Mother.

“He was tall,” Madge admits. “Really tall. Had the typical Seam look, and his hair was messy probably from the wind and his cheeks looked kinda sunburned and he had thick eyebrows and long eyelashes and his shoulders were really broad-”

“My, for someone not your friend, you certainly got a good look at him,” Mother chuckles.

Madge’s mouth falls open as she realizes that her “rant” about Gale had quickly morphed into a “list of everything that makes him hot”.

“It’s not like that!” Madge quickly denies. “He was a total jerk to me even though I didn’t do anything to him.”

“Perhaps he was just sad that he was not blessed with the privileges the Capital has blessed you with,” Mother’s words are careful, ever mindful of the bugs, but Madge understands what she’s trying to say.

“I guess,” Madge sighs, sinking against the headboard. She was no stranger to the politics surrounding the Town/Seam division, but this was the first time that someone had so bluntly thrown it into her face. All the other kids skirted around her as if she was dangerous infectious disease they’d get if they got too close, and the adults treated her like...well, a princess.

With a sinking feeling, Madge realizes that Gale’s bitterness towards her was justified.

“He seems like a spirited young man,” Mother hums. Her eyes are still closed, but there’s a nostalgic smile on her face. “You should be his friend.”

“He hates me, and he has every right to,” Madge says glumly, suddenly wanting to cry.

“Anyone that really knows you could never hate you,” Mother says softly, gently stroking Madge’s cheek. “Even Gale.”

Madge frowns at her mom, chagrined. If she knew his name, she had heard their entire conversation, so she had just been milking information out of her.

“Gale and I will never be friends,” Madge declares then and there, mostly out of wounded pride. “He’s a jerk!”

“Oh, love,” Mother sighs dramatically. “Now you’ve sealed your fate.”

“Fate?” Madge echoes confusedly.

Mother nods solemnly. “Now you two can only be enemies or lovers.”

Madge rolls her eyes at her Mother’s antics.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cries*


	25. Rory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

Exhausted, Madge plops onto her bed with a relieved sigh. She had been able to submit her assignment just minutes before the midnight deadline, and her body was finally able to relax for the first time in nearly two hours. It was her fault for procrastinating till the last minute, but damn if completion didn’t feel better when the stakes are so much higher.

Pushing herself up to actually get under her covers, Madge pauses when her phone vibrates on its place on her bedside table.

Wondering who was texting her so late, Madge nearly falls out of her bad when she reads the contact name.

Why was _Gale Hawthorne_ texting her?! They had never texted before, in fact, she was pretty sure they only reason they had each other’s number is because they were in a group chat together. Even there they had never spoken to each other.

Heart beating stupidly fast, Madge unlocks her phone to read the message.

_Gale: hi madge. i really need to give you something. pls txt back this is urgent sos_

Her nervousness quickly morphed into worry as she texted back.

_Madge: What do you need to give me? Is everything ok?_

Almost immediately, a text bubble pops up, indicating he’s typing.

_Gale: have you ever heard of “if you don’t use it, you’ll lose it”?_

_Gale:_ _im 20 and a virgin :((_

_Gale: plssss take my virginity Madge <3_

_Gale: or my dick will fall off ://_

Madge stared at her phone with her mouth agape, laughter bubbling in her chest while at the same time she was swarmed by disbelief.

_Madge: Are you high?_

Gale doesn’t reply and Madge assumes he’s fallen into a drug-induced sleep because that’s literally the only fathomable explanation for the most bizarre conversation she has ever had. She’s still too perturbed to sleep when her phone rings.

Oh, God.

It was Gale.

Completely unsure of what to expect, Madge picks up.

“Hello?” Madge answers hesitantly, hoping against hope Gale didn’t proposition himself again.

“Hey,” he replies sounding angry and….embarrassed? “My fucking….That was my asshole brother, Rory, just now.”

“Oh,” Madge laughs nervously, unsure if she was relieved or not that the entire setup had just been a prank.

“Yeah,” Gale says awkwardly. She can practically hear him swallowing. “Sorry about that.”

“No no, it’s fine,” Madge quickly assures him. “I mean, obviously it was a prank because you’re not a virgin.”

Why oh why did she say that?

“I mean even if you were that’d be fine,” Madge blubbers on, unable to shut up. “But let’s face it, you’re probably not, and if you were, why would you want to give it to me. Haha.”

Who needed a younger sibling when she was perfectly capable of humiliating herself.

“I’m not a virgin,” Gale confirms amusedly. Of course he isn’t. He’s hotter than summer asphalt. “But if I were...I wouldn’t mind giving it to you.”

Madge pinches herself, just to make sure she isn’t dreaming. Nope, she’s awake.

“Well, I’m a virgin,” Madge admits quietly, immediately cringing as she awaited his response.

“Really?” Madge can’t help but feel pleased that he sounds so surprised.

“Yup,” Madge answers more confidently. “Saving it for Mr. Special, you know?”

“And what would make a guy special enough for this privilege?” Gale asks, and Madge has to stop herself from squealing. She’s sexy flirting with _Gale_.

“Oh, well, you know, besides the whole tall dark and handsome, I’d like a nice smart guy that actually cares about me,” Madge reveals. “I want it to mean something.”

Gale is quiet for a moment and Madge is afraid she’s bored him with her unrealistic romanticism.

“Tall dark and handsome was practically written on my birth certificate,” he says with a low chuckle. “And I got a really good internship last week, so maybe I’m not too dumb.”

“Maybe I can take you out on a date to prove I can be nice?” Gale asks, a concealed edge to his words.

“You forgot caring,” Madge breathes, afraid if she’ll talk louder, the spell will break.

“Oh I care,” Gale immediately says. “I’ve...cared for a while.”

Something in her brain connects. “Is that...is that why Rory texted me?”

On the other line, Madge hears Gale sigh. “I think he overheard some of my conversations with Thom.”

Gale spoke about her with his friend? This had to be a dream.

“I would really like to go on that date,” Madge tells him softly, biting her lip to try and contain her grin, even though he can’t see her.

“Good,” Gale says relievedly. “My dick would have fallen off if you had said no.”

Madge laughs, very loudly. They exchange a few more flirty pleasantries before planning their date. Finally, Madge very reluctantly hangs up.

Madge falls back onto her pillows and covers her face with her hands as her feet kick into the air excitedly. Another buzz from her phone pulls her out of her girlish celebration. Hoping it’s from Gale, even though she really needs to sleep, Madge frowns at the unknown number. Once more, she unlocks her phone to read the message.

_Unknown: hello my name is rory hawthorne and i have risked a great deal to contact u. pls tell my brother gale u wont give him a blowjob if he doesnt let me out of the closet and he owes me reparations for punching me. u owe me anyways for setting u two up since gale was too pathetic and cowardly to do it on his own. thx_

_Unknown: can u fucking hurry. vick hasnt done his laundry in a month and im about to pass out_

_Unknown: hello?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems like I'm neglecting my actual stories, but I've been in a really bad writers block and all I can manage out are these dumb fics


	26. The Good The Bad The Stubborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

On Monday night, Jack Everdeen is found hanging in his barn.

Wednesday morning finds Asher Hawthorne in the middle of his fields, neck snapped.

Mayor Undersee knows well that neither of these deaths are coincidental, suicide, or trampled by a wild horse. Or whatever flagrant rumors were being spread.

They were intentional, and he knew down to his bones that it was by a hired hitman. After all, these two men had been his greatest proponents in the expansion of their town’s agrarian economy to help out the working class farmer, which has been vastly unpopular amongst the townsfolk, who were more in favor of development.

So when he hears the downstairs door be fiddled with, he isn’t surprised. He does wish he had more time to wish his dear daughter, though.

“Margaret,” the tired Mayor whispers as he steps into the dark bedroom of his daughter. “Quickly dear, wake up.”

Margaret groans quietly before sitting up, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Downstairs, a door is flung open, and he hears the footsteps of multiple men enter.

“Run,” he whispers, pulling her out of bed and wrapping a traveling cloak around her shoulders. “Run, and remember the railroads.”

“Daddy, what-” he silences her with a shove towards her open window. The fall will hurt, but she’ll manage. She has to.

“The railroad,” David Undersee hisses again as Margaret finally hears the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her wide eyes fill with terrorized tears, but she nods with understanding.

He gives her a final kiss on her temple and watches as she climbs out of her window and jumps.

He walks into the hallway and closes her bedroom door, before entering his study, where he awaits his fate.

 

* * *

 

Madge is a mess.

Her right leg is practically lame from the shock it took from falling two stories, and her hands and knees burning with scrapes. Her hair is in a curly disarray, and her face is wet with tears as she recalls the sound of the gunshot coming from her home, over and over again.

She limps as quickly away as she can, but she has no idea where to go. Her Father had said to run, and a cryptic line about the railroads, but their town didn’t have a station.

Leaning against the back end of the grocers, Madge bites her hand to stifle her sobs. She needs to find safety first, and then she can fall apart.

 

* * *

 

Gale is a wreck.

The drunken stupor had resulted in a killer hangover which had morphed an inescapable emptiness as he forced his body home. He figured he could give himself a few selfish hours of grief before he took over as the man of the house.

The farm is just around the bend when Gale stops short. There on the dirt road is the figure of a woman lying face down on the ground.

Please don’t be dead, Gale thinks desperately. He doesn’t know if he can handle another dead person so soon, even if she was a stranger.

Rushing towards the fallen woman, Gale bends down and shakes her shoulder. She doesn’t stir. Bile rising in his throat, he gently pushes on her shoulder so she’s on her back.

He nearly falls backward in shock.

It’s the Mayor’s daughter.

Her face is dirty, dirt and dust streaked with tears, and her hair is in total disarray, but Gale could recognize her features anywhere.

 

* * *

 

Katniss lies in bed, unable to sleep, unable to speak, unable to do anything but lie there and by crushed by the anguish of losing her Father.

When the main door is knocked frantically, though, Katniss leaps out of bed and grabs her Father’s rifle. She won’t let anything happen to Mother or Prim.

“Katniss?” Prim whispers from across the room, clutching her comforter with fear.

Katniss tries to give her a reassuring smile, but all she can manage these days is impassiveness. “I’ll be right back, little duck.”

Slowly descending the stairs, Katniss walks into the foyer, and with the tip of the rifle, pushes aside the curtain on the window next to the door.

Her shoulders sag in relief when she sees it’s just Gale, her neighbor’s eldest son.

She’s just opened the door when he rushes in, and she finally notices he has something on his shoulder. More accurately, someone.

“What the hell, Gale?” Katniss hisses as he steps into their main room and sets a woman on their table.

“It’s the Mayor’s girl,” Gale explains in a rush. “I found her by my place.”

“The Mayor’s…?” Katniss breathes aloud as she tries to piece together what this all means.

The Mayor’s girl groans, bringing a pale hand up to her forehead, before opening her eyes.

With a gasp, she sits up, taking in her surroundings with frantic eyes.

“Whoa there,” Gale uses the same voice needed with unruly animals. “We won’t hurt you.”

As she calms down, Katniss sees that not only is she barefoot, but her right ankle is swollen terribly.

“Sorry,” she whispers, rubbing her eyes with her forearm. “Sorry I…”

“What happened?” Katniss speaks up. The girl looks up, and Madge sees a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

“You’re the Everdeen girl,” she says softly. Katniss nods stiffly.

“And you…” she begins expectantly as she looks at Gale.

“Gale Hawthorne,” he supplies, somewhat impatiently.

The girl nods, taking this all in.

“Well, Miss. Everdeen, Mr. Hawthorne, I’m Madge Undersee,” she unnecessarily introduces herself. “And I think my Daddy’s been killed tonight by the same men that killed yours.”

 

* * *

 

Gale gapes at Madge for just a moment before stepping forward until he stood just inches from her.

“What do you know?” he asks in a low voice, his entire body trembling.

Madge looks up to meet his gaze, expression both weary and determined. “Three consecutive deaths? They must be linked. Thing is, what did our Daddy’s have in common.”

Gale knew what his Father and Katniss’ had in common, but he was stumped when you factored in the Mayor.

“Farming,” Katniss answers quietly. “The three o’ them...they wanted to stay a farming town.”

Madge nods her confirmation. “And who’d hate that?”

This, Gale knows. “Townfolk.”

“I think someone from town hired hitmen to take our Daddies out,” Madge says conspiratorially. “But question is, who?”

This time, all three of them are stumped.

“Shit,” Gale cusses as he runs a hand through his hair. He just wanted to find the man who killed his Pa and beat ‘em to death. “Wish there was a way to lure ‘em out.”

Madge looks at him sharply, and although he hardly knows her, he sees an idea forming in her eyes.

“What?” he presses.

Madge shakes her head and looks down at her hands. “It’s stupid.”

“Well we don’t have many options,” Katniss snaps. “So speak or leave.”

Wincing at Katniss’ sharp tone, Madge nods. “A town can’t develop properly till there’s a station. Last I heard from my Daddy, the nearest tracks are ‘bout eighty miles east of here, but recently, they’ve begun to expand out. It should be a couple of weeks till they reach us.”

“What are you thinking?” Gale asks, something strange fluttering in his chest.

“We wait for them to reach the great ridge,” Madge says in a low voice. “Let ‘em build the bridge, and then, blow it up.”

Katniss gasps at her suggestion, but Gale nods quickly, spurring her forward.

“Whoever sent those hitmen after our daddies’ll surely sent ‘em out again to make sure that rail line reaches here,” Madge explains darkly.

“And when they come,” Gale finishes for her. “We’ll be waitin’.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaw
> 
> I've actually wanted to write a wild west Au for forever, but it took me forever comping up with a plot.


	27. The Madge Chip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Rating: T
> 
> Content Warning: None

“Hey!”

Gale comes back to reality with a wince and realizes he’s been rubbing the same spot for the past five minutes.

“If you can’t even wipe fucking tables properly,” Crane hisses angrily, an ugly vein bulging on his neck. “You’re outta here, you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” Gale says through gritted teeth, entertaining thoughts of knocking his manager’s teeth out as he quickly wipes down the table, his near epiphany of how to merge the main three computational components of a microprocessor chip completely out the window.

Once he’s done with this table, he moves to the next, where he picks up the dishes and takes back to the kitchen. It wasn’t his ideal job or even a backup job, but ever since the mechanic shop and every other building on the block got burned down cause some old lady forgot her casserole in the oven, Gale had been forced to seek out newer, and less desirable employment.

Three miserable hours later, his wretched shift is finally over, and he drags himself over to the bus stop across the street, eager to return home and eat something. Crane, the cheap asshole, didn’t let his employees take home any food, even the leftovers they tossed.

But of course, the bus runs 30 minutes late, and when he enters, the entire transit reeks because of the homeless man stretched out across the seats for the disabled.

Sighing, Gale moves all the way to the back, where a couple of punk kids listen to metal music loudly.

Finally, the bus stops at his rundown neighborhood and Gale walks by the gray apartment complexes to where the rows of squished townhouses began.

He’s just about to put his key in when the door swings open, nearly hitting him. Several middle-school aged children pile out, all in a rush to get back home.

“Hey,” Madge greets warmly from behind the home.

“Hey,” Gale greets back, stepping into the house and kissing her cheek. “Those the kids you tutor?”

“Some of them,” Madge hums as she takes his coat to hang. “How was work?”

“Ugh,” Gale groans. At Madge’s worried look, he tries to smile. “It’s getting better.”

Madge doesn’t look convinced. Annoyed that he’s upset her, he pulls her in for an actual kiss, her belly in between them.

“It sucks because I miss you,” he says against her lips. “And you,” he says to her pregnant belly.

“Ew, do you have to do this in the hallway?” Vick asks from behind them, face scrunched up.

“I can’t kiss my wife in my own damn house now?” Gale snarls, his foul mood returning. “Then where should I, huh?”

“This isn’t just your house!” Vick yells, before turning on his heel and rushing up the stairs.

“You shouldn’t be so impatient with him,” Madge chastises gently, still in his arms. “He’s upset that he can’t go to his STEM club anymore.”

“Yeah, well I had to leave the STEM club too,” Gale says bitterly, letting go of her and taking off his shoes. Madge sighs and disappears into the kitchen. Gale follows and with a quick greeting to his Ma who’s cooking something at the stove, plops down at the table to sort through the mail-or more accurately, the _bills_.

 _Past due. Past due. Threaten to send to_ debt _collector._ Threat _from_ actual _debt collector._

The door flings open again, and a moment later, Rory steps into the kitchen, face tired.

It went against Gale’s wishes, but it became a necessity for Rory to take on a part-time job at McDonald's as a cashier. He knew his brother struggled with balancing work, school, and his social life, and every bag under his gray eyes felt like a punch in Gale’s gut.

“I’m not staying for dinner,” Rory tells Ma as he pulls out a glass for water. “I’m gonna change and head over to Prim’s.”

Gale frowns at his brother’s back. “Why?”

“Because they’re dating,” Madge answers, returning from the dining room with the books she uses to teach tuition in her hands.

“Absolutely not,” Gale says, standing up so he stood over Rory. “You can’t afford to get caught up in these things.”

“Oh, really?” Rory asks, a dangerous gleam in his eye. “By ‘these things’, you mean ‘getting knocked up’, like you and Madge, right?”

“Don’t talk about her like that!’ Gale shouts, grabbing Rory by the shirt and shoving him into the fridge. The cereal boxes that sit on top of it fall to the ground, spilling. “She’s your sister and deserves respect!”

“Gale stop, it’s ok,” Madge says soothingly, tugging on his arms. He let’s go of Rory.

Rory’s gaze is venomous as he glares at Gale. If he wasn’t so angry, he’d be unnerved at how similar Rory looks like him at that moment.

“Rory,” Ma sighs. “Apologize.”

“Whatever,” Rory growls, stalking out the kitchen, and slamming the main door behind him.

“I’m going to go check up on Posy,” Madge says a bit too loudly, her eyes bright. “She’s been showering for a while now.”

Once Madge has scampered upstairs, Gale turns to his Ma, who’s gone back to cooking.

“Will you pick up the cereal?” she finally snaps. “I’ll have to buy more now.”

“Rory and Vick aren’t treating Madge properly because of you,” Gale accuses angrily. “Until you accept her, they won’t either.”

Getting his girlfriend pregnant at 19 had not been in any plan, but she was here now, he loved her, and she was family.

“What do you want me to say, Gale?” Ma says tightly. “Everyone’s lives would be a lot easier if you both had had more self-control.”

“Well we didn’t,” Gale nearly yells, trying to keep his temper cool when it came to his Ma. “Now she’s having my baby- your grandchild. If you care at all about what makes me happy, you’ll be nicer to her.”

Gale quickly cleans up the cereal and heads upstairs. Madge is gently towel drying Posy’s hair. The scene calms him a little; at least Posy accepted Madge with open arms.

“Gale!” Posy squeals happily, tearing out of the room she shares with Ma to give him a hug. “Guess what?”

“Wha-” before Gale can finish the word, Posy is speaking again.

“Do you remember my friend Rebecca? She’s having her birthday at the American Girl store!” Posy gushes, before pouting. “Gale I _need_ an American Girl doll so I can go!”

“How much are those?” Gale asks wearily. Posy brightens and rushes into the room, only to quickly return with a catalog. Gale wants to sit down after reading the prices.

Over a hundred dolls for a freaking doll? No way.

“I’m sorry, Pose, but this is too much,” Gale apologizes, crouching down so they’re eye to an eye. “But you can take a barbie, right? You have some of those.”

“They’re not the same!” Posy shouts as her bottom lip quivers. “Please, Gale?”

“Posy, Gale has had a long day,” Madge interrupts gently. “Let him rest a little so he can think about it, ok?”

Posy doesn’t look too happy about it, but she nods, before going back into the room to continue leafing through the catalog.

Gale walks into his room and resists the urge to pick up a lamp and smash it into the wall.

“Gale,” Madge whispers. He turns around and sees her nervously rubbing her stomach.

“Is the baby ok?” Gale asks worriedly. Madge’s hands immediately still.

“The baby’s fine,” Madge assures him. “It’s just...maybe my Dad could buy the doll for Posy...as an early birthday present?”

“Absolutely not,” Gale says immediately. He hasn’t taken a single penny from his affluent father-in-law and he wasn’t going to start for a fucking doll. “I don’t want to hear that again, Madge.”

“Then let him help with the bills at least,” Madge blurts, her eyes widening at her own words. “The credit cards keep on adding interest and-”

“NO!” Gale shouts, stepping up to his desk and shoving everything off in fury. “I don’t need your Father’s charity, I can take care of my own damn family!”

“Well, he’s my family too!” Madge cries. “I just don’t understand why you won’t accept a little help, he won’t judge you for it!”

“I said, I _don’t_ need it!” Gale shouts again, trembling with rage. “And what’s brought this about, huh? The charm has worn off, hasn’t it? Regret getting knocked up by a mechanic with three kids to look after?”

Madge’s eyes well with tears and he immediately rushes over to her as she crumbles in on herself.

“Shit Madge, I’m so sorry,” Gale croaks into her hair as he clutched her sobbing form. “I didn’t mean that, honest.”

“That’s all I am,” Madge cries into his shoulder. “A knocked up, useless, slut.”

“Who said that?” Gale demands angrily, pulling away to look at her. She won’t meet his eyes. “Was it Ma?”

“She-she doesn’t have to-have to say it for it to be true,” Madge hiccups as she continues to cry. “I’m just a burden to you.”

“Hey don’t talk like that,” Gale reprimands gently, tucking Madge into him as he laid them on their sides on their small bed. “You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

“Yeah right,” Madge sniffles against his collar.

“No, really,” Gale says quietly. “Before you, I just lived for the kids and Ma. My life had no direction besides making sure their’s did. Suddenly, you’re here, and now I have something to work towards. I got my idea for the multi-compressed microprocessor from looking at you, you know that? I just remember staring at your belly, and thinking how amazing it was that your body so seamlessly emerged two systems. And the Madge-chip was born.”

“You should really consider renaming,” Madge murmurs, and Gale laughs, knowing that he has her back. He rolls her onto her back-mindful of her belly and begins kissing her neck as his hands inch her shirt up. It’s nearly off when the loud voices of their next-door neighbors arguing are heard through the thin walls.

Talk about a mood kill.

 

* * *

 

Things are rough.

First, Vick breaks his arm while skateboarding, since according to him, that’s a “free activity” that he can actually participate him. The medical bills set Gale back thousands of desperately needed dollars. Gale tries not to be angry, but it's hard when Vick’s injured himself from something he’s doing out of spite.

Then, Rory is rear-ended, and the bumper has to be completely replaced since they have only one car and it has to be functional. An additional hundreds of dollars back.

On top of that, Ma comes down with a cold, and Posy has to temporarily move into his and Madge’s bedroom so she doesn’t get sick. Between the thin walls, Gale’s long schedules, Madge’s pregnancy exhaustion, and several people in the house, his and Madge’s sex life has been non-existent for a while, so he doesn’t mind for that reason that Posy sleeps between them. No, he minds because their bed is already small, and Posy takes up a lot of space when she sleeps, leaving Madge, who already has been having a hard time getting comfortable in bed, little space to sleep well.

To add to the list of things that frustrate Gale, his chip has made no progress. Unlike other inventors, he has no professor to go to for a second opinion, or academic colleagues to confer with. All he has are used electronic textbooks he’s bought from eBay, a ti-83 calculator so old, the numbers have worn off totally from the buttons, and his own, shitty brain.

The only good thing that comes out of this particular rut is that Madge finally gets an appointment at the free clinic in town, and comes home with an ultrasound picture. They’re having a girl.

He’s still daydreaming about a little girl that looks like a miniature Madge when he has to serve two new patrons, both women.

They’re overly flirty, but he’s used to that kind of untoward behavior from customers and is able to more or less brush them off, but it’s only when he’s waiting for her to fill out the receipt does she cross a line.

“You wanna go out and grab some drinks when your shift is over?” she asks in a sultry voice, biting the tip of the pen. Her companion giggles coyly and nods.

“I’m married,” Gale replies coolly, too tired for this shit. To his surprise, her expression becomes sympathetic.

“Poor thing,” she coos. “Hood girls always do that,-tie one of their baby daddies down young so they can get the child support check.”

“Shut up!” Gale roars, so angry he reconsiders his stance on hitting women. “Just shut up, you stupid bitch!”

“What the fuck is going on?” Crane bellows, coming out of his office. Immediately, the woman’s companion bursts into tears.

“He’s harassing me!” the woman lies, cowering in her seat. “I asked him for the check and he said I could pay with my body!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gale asks in a strangled voice. “Crane, I swear, she’s lying.”

“Get out,” Crane growls.

Gale blinks several times. “What?”

“Get. Out,” Crane enunciates slowly. “You’re fired. Done. Canned.”

“Sir, please,” Gale begins, but Crane cuts him off.

“Get out,” he repeats. “Or I’ll call the police.”

 

* * *

  
By the time Gale makes it back home, it’s late and he’s about 80% sober. That 20% of drunkenness is what allows him to function through the overwhelming flames of rage.

Gale unlocks the door and drags himself towards the stairwell, ready to fall into bed and just sleep and sleep and sleep.

His plans, of course, are interrupted.

“Gale?” Madge says tentatively as she steps into the hallway. “My Dad is here.”

Of course. Of _fucking_ course his Father-in-law decides to visit the day Gale is fired and drunk.

Taking a deep breath, he steps into the living room and goes over to shake David Undersee’s hand.

“Gale,” David greets, eyes hard as he no doubt smells the liquor on him.

“David,” Gale says back tersely.

“Have a seat,” David offers, and Gale wants to shout that this is his home and he’ll damn well stand if he wants to, but Madge loves her Dad, so he swallows his pride and sits.

“Before I begin, I just want to establish that you and I have the same interest,” Oh shit. Oh shit. Fancy business talk only meant trouble. “I’m concerned about Madge and the baby’s health. I think you yourself can admit that these aren’t the optimal conditions for a pregnant woman.”

“Daddy!” Madge hisses, cheeks reddening with anger. Gale remains silent.  
“I believe it would be best for both parties if Madge moved back home,” David continues. “Until things are...more stable here.”

“Absolutely not,” Madge huffs, crossing her arms over her chest. “Daddy, _this_ is my home now!”

Gale gets up and leaves the room. He hears Madge calling after him, but he ignores her.

He has the suitcase packed half-way when Madge comes up.

“What are you doing?” Madge questions unbelievingly.

“Your Dad is right,” Gale answers in a hollow voice. “I can’t take care of you like you need to be taken care of.”

“Gale, I’m _fine_ ,” Madge assures in a throaty voice, signaling near tears.

“And where will we put the baby when it’s born?” Gale asks, not looking up as he continues to pack away her things. “In the closet? We can’t even afford fucking diapers, Madge. This isn’t working.”

“Don’t do this,” Madge whispers, and sure enough, her cheeks are wet. Gale tries not to look at her as he walks past her with her suitcase filled.

“Too late,” Gale says flatly, even as his insides crumble.

 

* * *

 

Gale stops sleeping. He works through the night like a manic, throwing every ounce of his soul into his chip, because as soon as he stopped, he’d think of Madge, and break down all over again.

When he’s not tinkering, he’s wasting away at a gas station, the ultrasound picture heavy in the chest pocket of his yellow uniform shirt.

His life falls back into a monotonous tirade of black and white and days and nights blend into themselves as he finds himself fading away.

If he were more present, he’d notice the extreme mood shift in the house. Every little thing makes Posy cry, Vick is irritated and snappish, Rory seems more haggard and Ma grows silent, not even attempting to correct her children’s sudden bad behavior.

So Gale clings to his only coping mechanism: escapism, and his head is constantly filled either with sorrow or with numbers, theorems and circuits.  
And then it happens. On February 2nd, the day before Madge’s birthday, everything falls together. All the calculations are balanced, the online simulations confirm this. Every theorem checks out, and Gale has finally done it. He’s finally designed a functioning multi-compressing microprocessor.

He’s been working on this project for the past two years tirelessly, but now that it’s finally complete, all he feels is emptiness. What now? No one would give him a patent. No one would buy from him. This knowledge would just die with him because he wasn’t important enough to be heard.

For the first time in months, Gale gets up and walks out of his room after dinner-totally aimless.

He finds himself downstairs and is surprised to see his Ma sitting in the living room alone with all the lights off.

“Ma?” Gale calls out softly. “Everything ok?”

Ma doesn’t look up from the space she’s staring into.

“She was such a nice girl,” Ma finally whispers. “So sweet- and she never once complained. She was practically Posy’s second mother.”

“Ma,” Gale whispers, pained. He can’t do this. He truly cannot.

“I’m so sorry, Gale,” Ma whispers as a tear leaks out of her closed eye. “I’m so sorry.”

 

* * *

 

 _Happy Birthday, Madge_ Gale thinks to himself as he filled up yet another car with gas. She turned 20 today. The baby was due in just a few weeks.

He reaches into his pocket to pull out the ultrasound, but instead, his final schematics fall out instead. Puzzled, because he doesn’t even remember putting it there, Gale just shrugs. It doesn’t matter where that piece of paper ends up.

“Excuse me,” a man’s voice speaks up. “Is this yours?”

Gale turns around, and at the pump behind him stands a well-dressed middle-aged man, holding up his schematics.

Gale nods.

The man raises an appraising eyebrow as he browses Gale’s work.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” the man comments. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s an original schematic,” Gale answers, voice devoid of pride. “I designed it.”

“This....is brilliant,” the man appraises, and Gale’s mouth falls open. Walking towards him, he sticks out his hand. “I’m Beetee Latier, and I’m with Capital Tech. Would you be interested in talking me through this over some coffee?”

 

* * *

 

Gale had snuck into Madge’s bedroom hundreds of times, but officially, he’s only been to her house once. When he had asked for her Father’s blessing.

Hoping this meeting goes better than that one, Gale bounds up the stairs and rings the doorbell, rocking on the balls of his feet anxiously as he waited.

Surprisingly, David answers the door.

“Gale,” he says simply. He doesn’t look surprised or upset that he’s here.

“I got a job at Capital Tech,” Gale blurts, unable to keep it anymore. “I’ll be one of the higher-up’s assistant. It’s the real deal-retirement, health, even dental!”

“And what’s more,” Gale continues excitedly. “They’ve offered me a full-ride to the college of my choice!”

For the first time since he’s known the man, David Undersee looks at him with pride.

“So you’ll be attending college, then?” the older man asks, his own voice happy.

Gale shakes his head. “Maybe when the baby is older. I don’t want to leave Madge alone in raising her.”

David’s eyes soften, and he reaches up to clasp his shoulder. “She’s in her room.”

Embarrassed that David knows that Gale knows where her room is, Gale considers feigning ignorance but decides against that. He wants to see her ASAP.

Rushing up their large spiraling staircase, Gale opens the door to Madge’s childhood room and sees his wife for the first time in two and a half months.

She’s lying on her side, eyes closed, but he knows her well enough to know she’s awake. When she hears the door open, she lifts her head tiredly. When she sees it's him, she lets it fall back.

“Go away,” Madge mumbles.

“Madge, baby, I’m so sorry,” Gale says sincerely. “I’m here to take you home.”

“I said go away!” Madge shouts as she struggles to push herself up so that she’s sitting.

“Look, I know you’re mad, but I-”

“Mad?” Madge repeats incredulously, face bright red. “You broke my heart, Gale. Just...leave.”

“I was wrong,” Gale whispers, inching towards her. “I had gotten fired that day, and I was so scared, Madge. I regret what I did. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Madge shakes her head and holds up her left hand, pointing to her ring finger, where their cheap wedding rang sat. “You promised for better or for worse. You broke that promise. If I go with you now, how do I know you won’t kick me out again when things are rough again?”

“Because I didn’t know what I know now,” Gale answers in a tiny voice, looking at his feet.

“And that is?”

Gale looks back at her. “That no matter how bad things are, they’re bearable if you’re there, and no matter how good things are, it’s pointless if you’re not there.”

Madge opens her mouth to speak, but stops and looks down at her stomach.

“Look,” Madge whispers, gesturing for him to come forward. Happily, he complies, only to gasp when he sees what Madge is looking at. Through the fabric of her tank top is the clear outline of a tiny hand pressing against her skin. A moment later, a second hand appears next to it.

“She’s never done this before,” Madge cries. “She’s reaching out for you.”

Gale is wiping away his own tears when Madge tugs him down to her. For a few minutes, they just kiss breathlessly. God, was it possible to experience withdrawal from a person?

“I’m your wife, your partner,” Madge says when they finally break away. “You can’t push me away like that again, got it?”

“My dear,” Gale chuckles. “I have no doubt, very soon, you will be pushing _me_ away. Or at least, _off_.”

“We’ll see about that,” Madge growls, pulling him down for another kiss, but he stops her.

“Happy birthday Madge,” he whispers.


	28. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: sad

“I didn’t expect to see you here. I don’t know, really, what I was expecting.”

“You always have to worm your way in though, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t stand the sight of you. Your smiles made me taste ash.”

“You made me sick with want.”

“And I was sick to you.”

“I guess that doesn’t matter now.”

“But it did matter, once.”

“It did, and if I-if I...had known then what I know now, I would have crawled through your window at night, into the room where you slept.”

“I would have embraced you. Maybe even kiss as breathlessly as you are now.”

“I would have apologized.”

“You didn’t make me sick. You were just too beautiful. Too beautiful and kind for a Seam boy like me.”

“I was a monster.”

“I  _ am  _ a monster.”

“Although, I suppose...with just your grave as witness, I can admit aloud finally to how terribly I miss you, Madge.”


	29. That's a wrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

                                                                                             

Madge jumps up from where she’s sitting and rushes to the door when she hears it open.

For a moment, all she feels is relief when she confirms that yes, it is her husband at the door, and the reason why he’s late isn’t because he’s dead. Then returns the anger. He had gotten off nearly two hours ago, and he was only _now_ showing up?

“Gale,” is all she allows herself to say because she knows he’s tired and if she snaps he’ll snap back and everything will go into flames very quickly.

“Madge,” Gale says back quietly as he sits down on the chair she put out so it’s easier for him to take off his boots.

“Is everything alright?” Madge tries to ask lightly. He usually perks up when he sees her, or if he’s had a particularly rough shift, will be testy before perking up. He’s never this...subdued. It worries her all over again.

Gale has his boots off but doesn’t move from his seat on the chair, just sits there with his elbows on his thighs, hands dangling between them.

“I’m fine,” Gale says gruffly, finally standing up. That’s when she sees it. His left hand, clad in a fingerless glove and just as filthy with coal dust as his right, is a rusty brown with the flesh of his knuckles raw, blood staining his fingers and glove.

“What happened?” Madge whispers as her throat begins to close. The worst injury she’s ever seen on Gale are stray scrapes and bruises every miner hosts, and the thought of him out in the District at night, hurt, nearly sends her into tears.

Gale seems to sense her distress because he doesn’t bother throwing off his coat as he steps towards her to encase her in his embrace.

“Hey,” he coos softly against the crown of her head. “Just a little fight. No big deal.”

“Just a- Gale!” Madge hisses angrily, pulling out of his arms. “Why were you fighting?”

Gale shrugs and looks away from her. “It was just a bar fight. They happen all the time.”

He didn’t smell of alcohol, and Madge knew that if Gale didn’t spend their extra money on alcohol when it was just the two of them, he surely wouldn’t spend it now when a third was on its way.

“You’re lying to me,” Madge states in a hard voice. When Gale doesn’t look at her, she knows she’s right. “I thought we didn’t lie to each other.”

“Just let it go, Madge,” Gale snaps, finally pulling off his coat and tossing it onto the couch. “You’re always so tightly wound.”

 _That_ stings. Years of living in the most surveilled house in the District had frayed her every last nerve, and she had thought Gale understood that.

He sidesteps her and moves to go towards their bedroom. The sight of his back to her feels like a hot knife against her ribs.

“I had to combine two classes today,” Madge calls out to him as her frame shakes with rage. “Because my co-worker, Ivy Fairwaters, miscarried last night.”

This stops Gale dead in his tracks.

“And all day today,” Madge chokes on a sudden sob. “I couldn’t feel the baby move.”

Gale whirls around, panic clear on his face, but Madge continues before he can ask the obvious.

“But when I got home and smelled one of your sweaters, it kicked,” Madge continues in a hoarse voice. “Then you don’t show up, and all I can think is, what will I do if something has happened to you? How can I possibly make it with our baby?”

“And _then,”_ Madge spits. “You show up bloodied, lie to my face, and tell me I’m tightly wound.”

“Madge,” Gale says weakly, but she doesn’t let him finish.

“Maybe I _am_ tightly wound,” Madge laughs hysterically. Damn hormones. Wouldn’t let her get through a speech without coming off as maniacal. “But if I remember correctly, you chose to marry me out of your own accords, and this-this isn’t how you treat your wife.”

Now it’s Madge who turns her back to him, as she cups her mouth with her hand to silence her cries. She knows she shouldn't be this upset, but at the same time, she feels like her heart is breaking. What other secrets did he keep from her?

She finds herself being turned around by a pair of hands, and then Gale’s lips are on her right eye, then her left, and then her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Gale whispers raggedly, tucking her snugly under his chin. “I didn’t want to lie, but the truth will just...worry you.”

“Gale,” Madge whispers against his throat, anxiety dueling with the comfort that always comes with his touch. “What happened.”

“I was walking home,” Gale recounts in a low, hard voice. “You know Bishop’s girl? Still in high school?”

She did, Hana was a student of hers, actually.

“This Peacekeeper was bugging her, and I heard him say to her that if she didn’t come with him, he’d arrest her Dad,” Madge gasps at this detail, and suddenly she doesn’t have to wonder too hard why Gale’s knuckles were bleeding.

“Oh, Gale,” Madge sighs, pulling away just enough so she could look at him. His face is thunderous.

“How could I just let him get away with that?” Gale demands. “He’s lucky I didn’t kill him.”

“Did he see your face?” Madge asks worriedly, glancing over at the main door.

Gale shakes his head. “That’s why I took so long getting back, I had to avoid the backup he called.”

That wasn’t very reassuring, but Madge tries to give him a smile anyway. “Sit at the table, I need to clean the wound.”

Gale complies, though she suspects it’s because he’s too tired to argue. Filling two clean bowls with cool water, Madge goes to their bathroom to get some gauze and antiseptic. In their bedroom, she grabs two clean rags.

She returns with everything and stands next to Gale. His shoulders are drawn, and the anger is gone from him; he’s deflated with helplessness.

Setting one of the bowls in front of him, Madge gently retrieves Gale’s left hand and dips it slowly into the water. Immediately, the water darkens from the coal dust that parts his skin, and then darkens some more as red billows as the water softens the coagulated blood.

Gale sighs a little and leans back into his chair. Madge leans down to kiss his temple before reaching over to grab the smaller of the two rags. She starts with his fingertips, rubbing the rag back and forth to clean out the coal residue that’s been caked under his short fingernails. His nails are cracked for the strain of mining, and Madge’s heart can’t help but mirror those cracks.

Once that’s done, she cleans his long fingers, her movements slow and tender. He had the fingers of a creator: long and nimble, but unbelievably strong as well. Gale leans his head over to rest it atop of her hip.

“All clean,” Madge murmurs. “Now I can clean the wound without any dirt or dust getting in.”

Gale nods against her hip, and she pulls over the second bowl, and adds a few drops of antiseptic to the water, mixing it with her index finger.

Madge moves his clean hand into the sterile water, flattening his palm along the bottom.

Grabbing the second rag, Madge begins to wipe gently at his knuckles. Gale tenses but doesn’t say anything as she cleans his wounds. When she’s finished the water is pink.

When everything’s been cleared away, Madge pulls out his hand and retrieves her handkerchief with an embroidered M from her apron. Pat drying his hand, when she’s done, she puts back her handkerchief and reaches for the gauze.

She wraps him up, and when she’s done, she just holds his hand in hers. His hands were a part of him, so of course, she loved them, but his hands held a special significance to her. They did so much to protect her, to make her happy. And now it sat in hers, battered.

“You haven’t said anything,” Gale points out, looking up at her. Madge puts down his hand to cup his cheeks. Immediately, his eyes flutter close.

“I think you did the right thing,” Madge says softly. “But I’m not sure if it was the smart thing to do.”

Gale’s eyes open again, and he stares at her unwaveringly as she continues.

“Maybe the Peacekeepers will bother Hana more, maybe they won’t,” Madge says. “I can’t ask you to stop fighting for what you think is right, but please...just be more careful. What would have happened if the Peacekeeper had recognized you?”

“I know,” Gale sighs tiredly. “I just-I just don’t know what to do, Madge. I feel like there’s a boot on my chest, and there’s no way to get it off.”

“Sometimes all you can do is believe- believe that it can get better,” Madge whispers, pulling him into her embrace. With him sitting and her standing, his face is nestled against her breasts. “And sometimes, just believing is the hardest thing to do.”

Gale’s hands, which were on her back, slide forward so they rest on the swell of her stomach.

“I just want you two to live happy lives,” Gale whispers throatily.

“Well, that wish is half true already,” Madge tells him earnestly. “I couldn’t be happier with you, my love.”

Gale pulls away and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

Madge shakes her head with a small, but sincere smile. “I know you don’t believe me, but really. I’d chose a lifetime in Seam a hundred times over anything else if it meant being with you.” And she means that. She loves him, more than what was probably healthy, but that was hereditary. Donner girls always loved too hard.

Gale’s silver eyes are molten when he pulls her down onto his lap, lips searing a kiss onto hers. It was moments like these that made Madge consider that perhaps, Gale loved her back just as much.

And Madge knows, as she begins to forget how to breathe as Gale’s lips close over hers over and over again, his tongue writing unwriteable words against hers, as long as she has him, she’ll have no trouble believing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Horray, domesticity. This was gonna be a LOT lighter, but you know me, can't stay away from angst :)


	30. The Sweet Shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None. Non-reaped AU

Madge carries out the pail with sudsy water and a clean rag. The day is winding into the evening, and the sun’s retreat leaves the weather pleasantly warm as a cool breeze blows through town.

Setting down the pail and picking up a tune to hum, Madge dips the rag and sets to work cleaning the large windows of the sweet shop.

“Well, if it isn’t the sweet sweet shop owner.”

With a tremor going up her spine, Madge turns around with a forced smile.

“Peacekeeper Raytheon,” Madge greets politely, wishing more than anything else he’d just tip his head and continue on his way.

“Please,” he objects with a smile. “Call me Charles.”

Charles Raytheon, at just 27, was shipped in straight from District 2 to replace Crane as 12’s newest head peacekeeper. He was cocky, unempathetic, shrewd, and his green eyes reminded Madge of a snake's. All in all, it was safe to say she rather disliked the man.

“Charles,” Madge says, her smile growing more strained.

It seems her wish won’t come true, because Charles just folds his arms and leans against the bench set out in front of the shop.

“I was wondering if you’d like to take a stroll with me after closing up,” Raytheon smiles, and Madge can’t help but feel...slimy.

“Where to?” Madge asks hesitantly.

Raytheon blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “Just around the District, of course. Thought it’d be a nice way to get to know each other better.”

The man had arrived the day before yesterday but Madge felt as if she knew him well enough to know she didn’t want to know him any better.

“Undersee.”

Madge looks over and sees Gale Hawthorne approaching her from across the street. His younger siblings were not present, which meant he had come to trade.

With a feeling of sudden anxiety, Madge realizes that in his civilian clothes, Gale has no way of knowing who Raytheon is. Or more importantly, who he will be instated as tomorrow.

She’s trying to come up with a way to politely tell Gale to _get lost_ without tipping off Raytheon, but she’s too late.

“Brought some strawberries,” he tells her, patting his bag as emphasis.

Raytheon’s eyes are narrowed dangerously as he takes in Gale. “And who might you be?”

“This is Gale!” Madge blurts brightly. “He’s my employee. I sent him out on an errand. Gale, this is Charles Raytheon, our soon-to-be Head Peacekeeper!”

Gale’s eyes widen just barely, but she knows that he’s gotten the message.

“Don’t you work at the mines?” Raytheon asks almost snappishly.

“He works for me part-time,” Madge quickly explains. “When he’s not mining he’ll do an odd job for me here and there.”

Raytheon’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Well this won’t do,” he tells them both. “Starting tomorrow I’ll make sure that the Mine contracts explicitly prohibit any other form of extra employment. We must serve the Capital fully and with undivided attention.”

 _Bootlicker,_ Madge internally sneers.

“This District is far too lax,” Raytheon shakes his head before looking at Madge. “Did you know I’ve heard rumors of a poacher in the District? I swear, the moment I get my hands on him, it’ll be a 100 public lashes.”

Madge dares a glance at Gale’s face, which has gone pale.

“I’m sure it’s just a rumor,” Madge says assuredly, laying a hand on Raytheon’s bicep and leaning towards him. “Here in 12, we all respect the law greatly. Right, Gale?”

“Yes,” Gale says quietly, face closed. “Greatly.”

Madge retracts her hand when she notices Raytheon stares at it, and when he looks up at her, there’s a smug look on his face.

“If you say so, Miss. Undersee,” Raytheon concedes. “Now, about that stroll…?”

“Oh!” Madge blinks as she tries to find another excuse. “You’ll have to pardon me, I promised my Father a visit and dinner this evening.”

Raytheon _finally_ tips his blonde head. “Give Mr. Mayor my regards then.”

Both Madge and Gale watch silently as Raytheon walks until he’s gone from their sight.

“The Mine’s aren’t enough,” Gale finally speaks, staring out blankly. “Not if I can’t ‘poach’ anymore.”

His last sentence is bitter, and Madge understands. The woods were more than just a source of livelihood for his family, although that was pretty important. But she knew that Gale loved the woods, and it had been snatched from him by a vile snake.

“But there’s no need to worry, right?” Madge asks. “Not when you can work here.”

Gale’s eyes flash to hers. “You can’t be serious.”

“Sure I am,” Madge shrugs. She isn’t sure how she’s going to cut three liveable wages from the meager profits, but they’ll make do. “You and Katniss work well together. It’ll be fine.”

Gale watches her for a moment more before rolling his eyes and scoffing.

“A fucking sweet shop,” Gale mutters, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d work here.”

“Is there something wrong?” Madge asks tightly, heart beginning to beat faster with aggravation.

 _“Is something wrong,”_ Gale repeats in a mocking tone. “Of course something’s wrong! You run a sweet shop in a District where half its occupants are starving.”

Madge’s fists clench as her eyes fill with angry tears.

“Yes, people starve,” Madge admits in a hiss. “And my Grandfather thought to himself, if he can’t stop the starving, then at the very least, he could find a way to bring simple happiness to them, even if it meant doling out 1 cent toffees.”

“If working at a place whose goal is to bring a smile to someone’s face is too hard for you, then you can find somewhere else to take your comments,” Madge snaps, picking up her pail and rushing inside.

“Madge, wait,” Gale calls after her, the bells over the door chiming as he entered the shop. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry because you might not have a job or sorry because you’re a jerk?” Madge asks icily as she moved behind the counter, not looking at him.

“I’m just- Why are you so nice to that bastard?”

Madge is so taken aback by his question that she actually stops and looks at him. “What?”

 _“Raytheon,”_ Gale growls. “You were all…flirty with him. Why?”

“I was trying to help you, you- _ugh!_ ” Madge has to actually stop herself from tossing the contents of her pail at him. “I cannot believe you just insinuated that I-forget it. You’re so-ugh.”

Honestly. Gale was the only one to get her riled up past the point of coherency.

“I’m sorry,” Gale apologizes, looking almost pouty. “I didn’t mean to insult you or your shop. That...bastard just really pisses me off. Asshole.”

“Well, you should control your anger better,” Madge huffs. “I’m the one who has to deal with his God-awful flirting.”

Gale’s face hardens. “Right.”

Madge hears the side door open, and a few moments later, Katniss enters from the door that leads to the kitchens. Madge notices she has flour on her apron, which means she had been at the bakery...again.

Looking between her two friends, Katniss asks, “What’d I miss?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading through my past works, in this fic and others, and I've gotta say, you guys have been way too nice to me. The grammar, the spelling, the syntax....ugh. This fic may be my last one as I debate whether or not I should delete my account out of embarrassment/shame :/


	31. Honored

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

The familiar scenery of the halls she’s roamed all her life blur meaninglessly as she walks as fast as she can.

As she hurries, she can’t help but draw parallels between herself and her kingdom like shadows at dusk.

She was 17. Merchantra, 117.

She had a penchant for music, as did her kingdom.

In the summer, the wheat plant, that took up most of their land, glowed the same golden her hair was.

Most flagrant, however, was the fact that both she and Merchantra were aged and crumbling on the inside, and Madge knew without a doubt that whatever conclusion was drawn in her Father’s study would hold the identical fate of both her person and her kingdom.

After all, what monarch resided over a rotted, invaded land? Her Father would try, she had no doubt, and she pushes away the terrifying thought of his head on a stake.

Her Father’s head was not yet on a stake, but she knew that as he discussed a treaty with their northern neighbors of Seamia, peace, as it was known, is.

“Princess Margaret,” the courtier outside the dining hall bowed low as she approached him. “Shall I announce your arrival?”

“If you would, sir,” Madge answers, trying to steal her taut nerves. While she had not been allowed to sit in during the negotiations, she was allowed to join the men during dinner. She tried to take it as a good sign, that things were progressing enough that their guests had agreed to stay the night.

The courtier nods and opens the door, and for a moment Madge is bathed in the warm glow from the candles that light the long tables. The loud chatter of the dining hall momentarily quiets.

“Princess Margaret joins you for dinner, my king and his most honored guests,” the courtier bows low. When he steps back out into the hall, Madge steps into the room and curtsies low.

“Come, Madge,” Father calls out to her. “And greet our neighbors.”

Madge keeps her eyes on her satin clad feet as she steps towards the table. The members of her court had risen when she had entered, but the Seamian entourage had simply stared at her before returning to their meals. The harsh vowels of their language raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

The spot to her Father’s right is empty; it nearly always is, and she’ll have to sit in the seat adjacent to the Queen’s empty seat, right across from the King of Seamia.

She’s never met, or even seen the king, but she has heard tales of their brutish northern neighbors; how most of them were nomads, with no place to really even call home, and that they dressed in the furs of animals they killed with their bare hands, drinking the slain beast’s blood like rum.

Madge stops right before her chair and curtsies again.

“It is truly an honor to meet you,” Madge speaks in a steady voice as she rises. “I hope Merchantra has been pleasing to you, thus far.”

She finally raises her eyes, and nearly steps back in shock.

Staring back at her is undoubtedly the most handsome man she has seen. Ever. He's not dressed in furs at the moment, though his black shirt does have a vest made of criss-crossed leather, but his attire is hardly what she pays attention to. His hair seemed tousled by the wind, and his cheeks were high, jaw defined, and a long narrow nose sat in the middle of his nearly symmetrical face.

Most unnervingly, he stared back at her with such intensity that she felt as if he could read every thought housed in her mind. She was a veteran in enduring lust-filled and lingering glances from men of all kinds, but no one has ever watched her as the King of Seamia does now. What color were his eyes, she could not say, for the pigments in his irises shifted like kaleidoscopes in the low light. Blue? Green? Or something in between?

The man next to the king clears his throat and nudges his arm, and the king springs up and holds out his hand to her. It was probably a Seamian gesture, for her Father would never greet a princess of another land like this. Heart no longer speeding from anxiety but out of a foreign nervousness, Madge unsurely places her hand in his.

His hand is rough, yet very warm, and as his fingers close around the top of her hand, she has to stop herself from shuddering from the feel of the callouses on the tips of fingers brushing against her skin. Why did a King have such worked hands? What was this warm feeling in her stomach?

“Princess,” is all he says, his eyes still not moving from hers. In just a single word, his heavy accent is profound.

“Now now!” Father shoots up from his chair and clasps his shoulder, all while he still held Madge’s hand. She wondered if he could feel her rapid pulse through her palm. “There’s no need for such formalities, please, let us sit and enjoy our meal.”

He releases her hand and Father comes forward to pull out her chair. She wishes he didn’t act this way in front of the men who would decide their nation’s fate, but just nods and slides in.

Instead of resuming his meal as Madge expected, the King of Seamia turns to the man who sits next to him and begins speaking very quickly in their native tongue. The already haggard-looking man seems to grow angry at what the young King spoke of, and immediately began to shoot back.

Madge’s grasp on Seamski was delicate, as she had only had two years of tutelage before her tutor had fled the continent for refuge from the perpetual war, but she knew enough to know that the King’s advisor spoke to him rather...crassly, what with his constant use of the informal ‘you’, and the constant mention of the male genitalia. Beyond that, Madge was quite unsure of what the two men discussed, and focused on her plate as she swore she heard the advisor say something along the lines of “donkey feces filled mind” before taking a large sip of his wine.

She glances up at her Father who seems just as perturbed, if not more, than her. It seems that he did not speak Seamski either. The young King’s voice suddenly softens, and he says something that makes his advisor seemingly deflate.

“King Undersee,” the advisor finally speaks up, in the same, but much lighter version of the accent the King spoke in. “The King of Seamia accepts all aspects of your treaty, under one condition.”

Madge can feel the King’s eyes on her again, but she tries to ignore its weight as she awaits her Father’s response.

“Well, let’s hear it,” Father says good-naturedly, gesturing for the man to continue.

The advisor’s eyes dart to the young King, before looking at Madge. “He wishes to marry your daughter.”

Madge can’t help it-she gasps, loudly. Intellectually, she had known she’d never marry for love, but to see the theory actualize-it feels like a punch to the ribs.

“She’s practically a girl, Haymitch!” Father loudly protests, and Madge wants to sigh. He had exposed her as his weakness when he had pulled out her chair, and now he was surprised they were capitalizing on it?

Madge imagines the young King slaughtering a white lamb, bringing up its broken neck to his mouth, lips stained red when he puts it back down. She then imagines Merchantra finally falling to foreign invaders, women and children pillaged while the men were killed, their large wheat fields set ablaze while her Father sat on his throne like a mockingbird whose wings have been clipped, unable to do a single thing as death marched towards the castle.

The voices of her court and the Seamian guests blend into meaningless noise as Madge comes to a decision that will determine her destiny and secure the sanctity of her kingdom.

“I will do it,” Madge answers directly to the King, who continues to watch her. Better to be a lamb that can walk then a mockingbird who cannot fly. “I will marry you, so long as the treaty is honored.”

The King looks at Haymitch, and Madge knows enough Seamski to know the older man is translating her sentence. She can’t help but grimace-she’ll have to marry the man who does not even speak her language.

“Madge,” Father whispers, face aghast. This is his Achilles heel, Madge thinks to herself. His inability to think rationally when his loved ones are involved. Her Mother was good proof of that.

“Tomorrow,” the young King-her husband-to-be speaks to her. His deep voice seems to have the quality of always creating reverberations inside her chest. “We leave.”

Madge gives her pale Father a reassuring smile, before nodding to her fiance.

 

* * *

 

Gale watches his bride-to-be pretend to be joyous at the aspect of wedding him. He cannot begrudge her for her dispassionate response, not when his own behavior had been much worse when his request to wed Katniss had been denied, but at the same time, he is irritated with her. She does not remember him, even though he recognized her the moment their eyes met.

By not realizing who he is, she does not realize he has saved not only her, but her kingdom, when it served no benefit to him and his people.

But perhaps, her amnesia is a blessing. She will be happier if she does not know this is a debt repaid.

At least he tells himself it's a debt being honored, as his eyes trace the downwards curve of her slim neck. It won’t do, being anything else.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mopes around for 3 weeks and decides to come back*
> 
> I have to say, that it still hurts rather deeply in my soul how insecure I am about my writing, and I mean beyond grammar and spelling, but I missed it as a creative outlet too much, and you guys are so kind, so here: a new story with another highly reused trope.


	32. Honored 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None

Madge has a lover. He is mythical, and she has not seen him in 12 years, but she loves him nevertheless, and knows in her heart that he is the other half of her soul.

She had been five and accompanying her Father to their northernmost castle for its annual visit. Her governess had been a cranky woman who positively loathed Madge, so the moment the two of them were alone in the gardens, Madge made a break from the dastardly woman and ran into the woods. As expected, she became lost.

Instead of being overcome with fear, as most children would have reacted, she explored the mysterious woods with breathless wonderment. She was particularly enraptured by a flight of mockingbirds fluttering in the leafy canopy when she failed to see she had been walking right towards a steep incline, and had tumbled down rather ungracefully.

When she sat up, she came face to face with a pack of wild dogs. Hungry, thirsty, and now covered in scratches and bruises, Madge looked at the dog closest to her and began to cry. Not quiet, pitiful whimpers, but the screeching wails of a young, distressed child.

By a miracle of the Lord, her loud tantrum scared away the dogs, revealing what they had been so interested in. Or more accurately, who.

Dangling upside down from the tree, leg bound in a snare was a young boy. The moment their eyes met, the strangest burning sensation began to tingle in Madge’s chest, and she quickly stopped crying to gape at the strung up boy.

He said something to her, and Madge quickly decided he spoke the tongue of the fairies. It explained the tingling in her chest: he had used his magic on her.

“What?” child-Madge had squeaked, hoping the fairy-boy spoke Mercish. He did not, but he seemed to realize that they could not communicate verbally, and pulled out a short dagger from his belt, throwing it at her feet.

Madge stared at the knife for just a moment before she understood what he asked from her. Rushing over to the base of the snare, she set her small grubby hands to their quickest pace as she sawed through the rope. After what seemed like forever, the threads that bound the rope together snapped, and the fairy-boy fell to the ground. Madge had thought it was rather silly of him to not use his wings.

The fairy-boy had groaned, and slowly pushed himself to his hands and knees. Madge just stood and stared at him, not knowing what came next. When he finally stood up, Madge stepped forward hesitantly and held out his dagger back to him.

He had looked at his knife and then her again, and Madge realized she had never met someone that had eyes like his, only confirming yet again he was magic. After a dream-like moment, he shook his head and ran off in the opposite direction Madge had come from.

“Wait!” Madge had cried, but it was too late- he had disappeared like smoke into the sun.

The castle guards had eventually found her, but what no one found, not then nor now, was the dagger she kept.

When the maids tie the final lace of her wedding dress, Madge dismisses them and goes to her vanity, where she pulls out one of her jewelry boxes. Emptying the box, Madge pulls out its felt bottom, and the dagger from a dream stares back at her, proving that her fairy-boy had been real.

Madge pulls out the dagger and traces a finger over an engraving on its handle. For the life of her, she doesn’t know what the symbol signifies. Probably fairy.

Resting the cool metal against her cheek, Madge sighs and closes her eyes, recalling that the day in the woods for the millionth time. “Oh lover, where could you be?”

A knock on the door to her chambers shake her from her melancholic musings, and Madge quickly rushes to stow away the dagger in one of her packed bags. Breathless from how tight her corset was, Madge slowly goes over to her door.

Opening it reveals her very anguished Father.

“Oh, Father,” Madge sighs, opening her arms to him. He immediately pulls her into his embrace, resting his chin atop of her head.

“Your Mother was a commoner,” Father whispers. “I would be the worst of hypocrites if I did not let you marry who you loved.”

“I love you and I love Merchantra, and that’s enough for me,” Madge tells him both firmly and gently. “Besides, I will look good in furs, no?”

A brief smile flickers on his face before he grows somber again. “If he- if you are not happy, you just give the word, dear daughter, and treaties be damned, I’ll have you back.”

Madge tries to give him a reassuring smile, but the truth is, she’s terrified. However, while the King of Seamia has spoken only four words to her, and she has no idea what sort of person he is, he promised to protect Merchantra, and by extension, her Father, and for that alone, she, on some basic level, trusts him.

“If you’re sure then…” Father trails off, before straightening. “Come then, we have a wedding to attend.”

The young King had made it clear he wanted to depart to Seamia at daybreak, thus why Madge and her Father made their way to the Castle’s chapel while the birds still slept for what was probably the earliest wedding in Merchantra royal history. Madge didn’t really care how she was married to the young King, but her Father insisted that if he couldn’t be apart of the Seamian festivities, they could at least make their holy vows in Merchantra.

The Castle’s chapel is in a tower, and by the time they reach it, Madge is moments away from passing out. She can only pray Seamian women don’t wear their corsets so tightly.

After taking a moment to regain her bearings, Madge gives her Father a nod, and he opens the door to the chapel.

The only people present are the bishop, some nuns, the young King’s advisor, and of course, the young King.

Madge is surprised to see him in Mercish clothing, and can’t help but note once more just how handsome he was. She suppose in this regard she was blessed; she could have very well been married to a hideous brute twice her age.

Father walks her towards the young King, and once more, Madge’s hand is placed in his. She finds it hard to focus on the bishop’s word with the young King’s hand around hers, and his eyes once again never leaving hers, but she’s grounded a bit more to reality when it comes to the young King’s turn to speak his vows.

Pulling out a sheet of paper from his pocket with his free hand, the young King reads with an almost endearing scowl, “I...pra-mis to, uh, hon-ner end pre-tect you as a khus-band.”

Madge has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. The young King’s advisor doesn’t seem to care about how his reaction will be taken and chortles loudly. The young King glares at his advisor menacingly, but the older man just waves his hand as he laughs.

“He promised to honor and protect you as a husband,” Haymitch supplies helpfully. Looking slightly scandalized, the bishop nods. Now it’s Madge’s turn.

“I promise to honor and serve you as a wife,” Madge vows to the young King, who, for his part, looks pretty dignified as he stands there pretending to know what she just said. Haymitch translates her words, and the young King’s eyes soften.

“Then do you, Gale Hawthorne, King of Seamia, take Margaret Undersee, Princess of Merchantra, as your wife before God and all his witnesses?” the bishop asks solemnly.

 _Gale Hawthorne_. Madge turns her husband's name in her head over and over again. It was strange how a name could be so... attractively masculine, just like its owner.

“I do,” Gale answers, after confirming quickly with Haymitch that that is indeed what he’s supposed to be.

The same answer is asked of Madge, and she gives the same answer. When the bishop proclaims that the bride may now be kissed, the young King-no, Gale, just holds up her hand to his mouth and presses a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. And just like that, she’s married. Rather anti-climactic, as weddings go, but she'll take it.

Haymitch lets her know that they’re set to depart in an hour’s half, and Madge and her Father leave the chapel together. After one more weepy hug, Father lets her go so that she can change and do some last minute checks on her luggage.

She’s expecting the usual maids to help her out of her dress, but is shocked to instead find Mother.

“Hello, love,” Mother greets in her airy voice. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding. I’ll never know who decided so many stairs was a good idea.”

“It’s fine,” Madge sighs, deciding she didn’t have the energy to ask how much her Mother knew about her abrupt wedding.

“Let me help you,” Mother says softly, coming over and beginning to undo the back of her dress.

“You don’t have to,” Madge protests, but Mother ignores her.

“I want to,” she says gently. Madge acquiesces, and for a few minutes, she just stands there as Mother helps her out of her heavy garment. As soon as her corset is loosened, Madge pulls off the wretched contraption and sinks into the nearest chair, uncaring she’s only in her drawers.

“Tell me something, love,” Mother asks her suddenly. “How did you feel when you first saw your husband?”

Madge frowns at her Mother, not understanding the source of this question. “Surprised, I suppose. I was expecting an older king.”

Mother frowns. “You felt nothing warm, nothing tingling, nothing like you’ve never felt like before?”

It takes genuine effort not to scoff. “Certainly not.”

Mother sighs and looks down at her hands sadly. “I wish you could marry for love,” Mother whispers. “Like how Maysilee and I did.”

“Aunt Maysilee married?” Madge asks, utterly bewildered. She had never heard _that_ before.

“Oh yes,” Mother chuckles lightly, a nostalgic smile on her face. “The entire village opposed it-after all, it had been unheard of to marry a Seamian man. I suppose you’re carrying on her tradition.”

“Wait-Aunt Maysilee married a Seamian man?” Madge cries out in shock. “How did they even meet?”

“You know, she never did say,” Mother shakes her head as she laughed. “I knew, of course, she was seeing a man, but your Grandfather only found out when she told him she was with child and engaged. Her husband had been rather handsome, if not slightly smart-mouthed. A perfect match, really.”

It seems that there was a lot more to her late Aunt than what Madge knew. A _lot_ more.

“Well if one Donner girl made one Seamian man love her, I’m sure I can manage to get one to tolerate me at the very least,” Madge tries to say jokingly, but Mother’s face suddenly grows serious.

“Madge, about your wedding night,” Mother begins, and Madge wants to both wince and straighten in her seat to absorb every word. Her education on the intimacies of marriage was purely anatomical and religious, which weren’t very helpful. “You must let your love transcend between you so that it may manifest physically.”

Insane, Madge concludes, is what all her headaches had made Mother.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mother,” Madge says flatly. “If you’ll excuse me, I should change into my traveling clothes now.”

Mother just smiles at her and steps forward so that she can kiss her cheek. “I’ll visit as soon as I can.”

Madge’s throat suddenly closes, and she has the strangest urge to hug her frail Mother as tightly as she can. “Yes. Yes, you-you do that, Mother.”

Because Madge truly does not know how long she will last in Seamia all alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stayed up till 3 writing this when I have to get up at 7...press F to pay respects.


	33. Honored 3

Her final case is loaded into a cart, and it’s official, Madge’s entire life has been packed away, ready to be shipped off to a foreign kingdom.

She had had the option, of course, of bringing her ladies in waiting with her to her new court, but Madge had declined. Even if she held no fondness for any of her ladies, she did not want to subject them to the surely primitive lifestyle of Seamians.

As Madge nods to the servant who had carried down her bags, she observes the Seamian entourage as they load up.

 _Savages,_ Madge things to herself bitterly as she takes in their huge statures and thick fur coats and hats, _I am to be the Queen of Savages._

And yet, despite her disdain, Madge could not say the Seamian people were ugly.

No, they all were shaded in a tone of olive that glowed even in the gray morning of November, and all held hair of thick black locks. The men had strong, angular faces, and even the few women that were present looked beautiful as their alluring light eyes oversaw their work.

In front of them, Madge felt washed-out and frail.

Suddenly, she feels a presence behind her that sends a shiver down her spine. Turning, she finds her lawfully-wedded husband.

“Good?” he asks, looking her up and down in a way that made her face warm.

“Yes,” Madge says back in Seamski, enjoying the way his eyes widen. With the gray sky behind him as a reference, she could finally tell what color his eyes were.

“You speak Seamski?” the young King asks both in shock and agitation.

“A little,” Madge answers truthfully. “It is easier to speak than to hear.”

The young King nods, looking thoughtful before asking, “You can ride loshad?”

At least she thinks he said ride. She had no idea what ‘loshad’ is, so she points to the closest horse to them. “Loshad?”

A small smile lifts up his lips and Madge realizes that’s the first time she’s seen the expression on him. He really was handsome. When he nods, she answers, “Yes.”

“Good,” he repeats in Mercish, and Madge can’t help but smile at his accent, it was strange how endearing she found it. Switching back to Seamski, he continues, “You need better clothes.”

“Excuse me?” Madge gasps, never more insulted in her life. She wore the finest dresses in Merchantra!

“Too tonkiy,” Gale sniffs, looking not at all apologetic. “You need mekh.”

She didn’t know what ‘tonkiy’ or ‘mekh’ was, but she was so aggravated she considered pushing his hulking body away from her. Was this a roundabout way of calling her ugly?

“He’s trying to tell you you’ll freeze,” a new voice speaks up. Looking to her side, she finds Haymitch already on a horse, looking rather cranky. “You need to put on some furs to protect you.”

“But I have no furs,” Madge frowns, fiddling with the button of her cloak self-consciously.

Her fingers are suddenly pushed away and the young King undoes the single button. Her cloak falls to the ground as a puddle around her, and although she’s wearing several layers, she feels so exposed she reflexively brings up her arms to cover her chest.

The young King ignores her scandalized reaction and whistles for his horse. The jet-black steed trots over, and he opens a satchel that hangs off the side of the large animal.

Pulling out an auburn fur coat, the young King holds it out to her.

Hesitantly, Madge pulls it on her and is immediately swathed in a cocoon of warmth. She’s beginning to see the Seamian affinity for such attire…

Once she’s buttoned it up, the young King hands her gloves as well, before reaching out and pulling on a snug cap on her head, tucking her traveling bun securely into it. Madge watches him with wide-eyes as he clasps the ear flaps closed beneath her chin. The morning sun highlighted his features, and his thick brows furrowed as he frowned in concentration. Morning glory indeed.

“There,” he declares proudly. “Now you have furs.”

Her mind can translate mekh into fur now, and she’s sure she’ll never forget the word as she reaches up to touch the back of her head, where her bun was tucked away, with her fur-lined gloves.

“Madge,” turning at her Father’s voice, she finds him crossing over to where she stands. He gives her a hug and kisses both her cheeks.

“Gale,” Father says to her watching husband upon his horse. Madge’s mouth falls open in shock at how directly Father addresses him. “Remember your vow.”

She knows the young King well enough to know that he has understood what her Father said.

“I will,” he says in Mercish. “Always.”

Father helps her onto a rather lazy-looking horse and for a moment they just look at each other.

“Well,” Madge says in false-brightness. “I’m sure we shall see each other soon.”

Father just nods and steps back. The young King shouts out something, and the Seamians begin their envoy back to their homeland.

Madge does not allow herself to look back at the Castle as she leaves it. She isn’t sure if she can deal with the site of her Father standing alone as he sent her off.

The initial pace is slow as they arrange themselves into a proper envoy, with the luggage carts in the middle, warriors on the side and back, the young King and Haymitch in the front, and Madge right behind them, flanked by two unknown Seamians.

It takes a great deal of energy not to cry as they go through the imperial city. Shops familiar pass by her, and her once-subjects all stare in awe as the foreigners cross their roads. Because that’s what she was now: a foreigner.

Once they’ve reached a stretch of flatland that only has farmlands as far as the eye can see does Madge finally allow herself to let slip a few tears, heartbreaking with sadness as her chest tightened with fear. No matter how many times she told herself the young King would not hurt her, his earlier gentleness a testament to that, she could not push away the despair of leaving everything intimate, only to march into a darker, crueler world, where she had no one who she could trust. A world where she loved no one, and no one loved her.

Suddenly, all the talking and laughing around her quiets, and she hastily pulls her horse to a stop when she realizes that the young King has stopped.

Too late does she realize that not only is he watching her, but he’s seen her tears. A new irrational fear of him punishing her for her outwardly negative reaction arises. Instead of pulling out a whip or something along those lines, however, he just says something to Haymitch, who nods.

“Princess,” Haymitch calls out to her. “You like singing, yes?”

Madge blinks her eyes rapidly, both to clear the tears and also because his question surprises her. “Y-yes, I do.”

“Pyet!” the young King suddenly shouts, and Madge watches as the caravan exchanges confused looks. Madge is still racking her mind for what the word might mean, when the man next to her gives the young King a very large grin, before opening his mouth and very loudly beginning to sing. After a few words, the rest of the caravan joins in, and Madge watches in stunned shock as the young King sets forward again, and everyone follows, all while singing the entire time.

It’s harder to understand Seamski when it’s sung than spoken, so she isn’t really sure what any of the lyrics are, but she’s soothed nevertheless by their deep, strong voices carrying tunes of the land she would now preside over. The songs reverberate inside of her, and she notes that their syllables don’t seem nearly as harsh to her when they’re sung, instead, they sound almost...powerful. Regal.

_Perhaps they are not so savage after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to whoever can figure out what language 'seamian' is, lol.


	34. Honored 4

Madge glances up at the darkening sky, and then at the Seamians around her. No one looked inclined to stopping soon, despite the quickly plummeting temperatures.

Shifting uncomfortably atop the horse, Madge tries to ignore the emptiness in her stomach and the soreness of her legs. They had stopped a few hours ago for the horses to drink water from a stream and eat a quick lunch of smoked meat the Seamians had brought with them, but it had been hours since that intermission, and Madge’s patience was waning, all while her anxiety was heightening.

And there wasn’t even anything to distract herself with. The two Seamians that flanked her did not speak a word of Mercish, and she didn’t have the energy for trying to stretch her Seamski skills. What’s more, after traveling across it horseback for hours, did Madge only know realize how...bland, Merchantra’s landscape was. While intellectually she understood that their expansive flat farmlands were what allowed for settlements to be built where finer skills and professions were crafted, to see it all laid out was rather monotonous.

“We stop here,” the young King suddenly calls out, and Madge wants to cry in relief.

Dismounting her horse who she’s named George, she pets his mane, her hand running over the many braids she had twisted in to help pass the hours.

“Thank you for being kind to me,” Madge tells George. He gives her token lazy-eye look before he’s pulled away to be tied down with the other horses.

Looking around the now-bustling Seamians, Madge sees why the young King chose this spot to set up camp, to the west was a small village in case there was a need for any supplies, and just ahead was a bend of a large stream, and behind it was the beginning of Merchantra’s forests. Just past the forest lay Seamia.

With a start, she realizes that they must be just miles away from her Father’s Whitby Castle!

 _“Why must I sleep on the freezing ground when I can in a castle?”_ Madge thinks to herself indignantly as she searches for Haymitch. She finds him by said stream, crouching down by it. Hurrying towards him, she pauses when she’s him splashing his face with its water. How primitive! Who knew what lay in those dark, cold waters?

“Sir,” Madge speaks up, trying to conceal her disgust with the older man. “The Whitby Castle must be just miles from here. Surely the King would rather stay there…?”

Haymitch looks at her amusedly. “That’s right,” he chuckles sardonically. “This will be your first night sleeping outdoors, won’t it?”

Madge doesn’t answer and looks stubbornly at the foliage across the water.

“I assure you the King will prefer this to Whitby,” Haymitch says as he stands, but Madge is not listening to him anymore. On the opposite bank of the stream imprinted into the mud are several horse hooved shapes, which all lead into the forest, where on its outskirts she can several bare bushes trampled on.

“Someone is in these woods,” Madge tells Haymitch with panic. “Look at this trail, and the plants they crushed to enter!”

“Are you forgetting your country has a population of its own?” Haymitch asks flatly. Madge tries very hard not to glare at him.

“The only village we’ve seen for miles is to the west. Why would they come all the way over here to enter the forest? And wouldn’t they have cleared out an actual trail by now?”

Haymitch frowns as he considers her words. “I will tell the King,” he says finally, and Madge sighs in relief. She couldn’t explain it, but as she stared into the dark forest, something...unpleasant stirred in her stomach.

They both walk back towards what was quickly becoming a camp, and true to his word, Haymitch goes over to the young King and speaks to him. Madge watches the two from a distance, but quickly looks away from the young King suddenly looks up at her sharply.

She’s just sat by a fireplace to warm up a little when from the corner of her eye, she sees the young King unsheath a huge sword from inside his hefty coat. Madge’s mouth falls open at how fluidly he holds it- as if he’s had the training of a knight.

"Voiny, sobirajtes!"  the young King calls out, and immediately everyone in the camp halts. “We dilzhny otsenit ugrozu.”

Perfect. Out of that entire sentence, she just understood, ‘we’.

Several men and women stand, all brandishing their own weapons, and Madge watches stupidly as they all march into the dark forest, following the young King without any hesitation.

Madge grabs the arm of the Seamian closest to her.

“The King goes?” Madge asks incredulously, wishing she knew the word for ‘fight’.

The Seamian she grabbed seems to be a young man near about her own age, the very one, she realizes, who had begun singing first. He looks at her confusedly.

“Go where?” he asks, clearly not understanding what she meant.

“The King,” Madge tries again frustratedly. Inspired, she mimics the motion of drawing a sword and slashes the imaginary blade through the air.

“Ah,” the young man says, seemingly amused. “Yes. The King always goes. He must.”

A King that functioned as a soldier? Just what sort of place was Seamia?

“Women too?” Madge asks, even more incredulously. It was absolutely unheard of in Merchantra for a woman to fight in any caliber.

The confusion returns to his face. “Of course.”

Madge realizes she’s still holding his arm and lets go of it. “Why not you?”

His face takes on an embarrassed expression. Wordlessly, he mimics a knife stabbing him in the stomach.  
  
Before Madge can question why he travels with such an injury, a loud scream is heard echoing from the forest.

Heart plummeting to her feet, Madge wonders wildly if she will be widowed on the very same day as her wedding.

Amidst her conversation and worry, Madge realizes that the remaining Seamians have taken on a very particular formation of a semicircle, complete with their own smaller weapons and shields.

 _“They’re preparing for an attack,”_ Madge thinks breathlessly. _“Even though they’re not voiny.”_

Madge is nowhere near the state of mind where she can contemplate how she was able to figure out that voiny meant warriors.

Suddenly it’s all too much. The dark, the cold, the uncertainty, the flames that cackle loudly a few feet from her, the hunger, the memory of seeing the young King so carelessly stride into the forest, the fatigue.

_Am I going to die?_

Just then, the young King’s smiling face emerges from the forest. It takes Madge a moment to realize his sword is stained with blood.

The other voiny follow, and they all seem just as cheerful as they carry large crates.

“Food and wine!” one of them shouts, and the camp breaks into a cheer.

Madge wants to faint.

“I am not feeling well,” Madge says meekly in Mercish to the young man next to her, who is hollering rather loudly.

“What?” he asks, clearly not understanding her. Madge falls into his chest face first.

“Princess!” he calls out worriedly, adjusting her in his arms. She’s too dizzy to open her eyes, but too stubborn to give in completely to the darkness.

“What happened?!” she hears the young King shout angrily. She can hardly make out the man who holds her reply, but she is aware of when she’s moved into a new pair of arms. These arms are much larger and muscular, but that isn’t even what she focuses on; she’s been cocooned in the most wonderful smell of pine and something else she just can’t name, and she can no longer fight off the blackness, soothed by the perfume.

 

* * *

 

Madge wakes to shimmering red maroon.

Memories of earlier slam into her, and she sits up with a loud gasp.

“Shhh now,” a woman’s voice speaks up, hands gently pushing her shoulders down so that she’s reclined again.

Madge looks over and finds two women at her side. One sit rights by her, while the other stands further away, holding a plate.

“Tell the young King she is prosnulas,” the woman by her speaks. What is prosnulas, Madge wants to cry as the other woman hands the seated woman the plate.

“Eat,” the woman says kindly, not making Madge lie down again when she sits up. It seems to be a mix of rice, vegetables, and a dark, glazed meat. Her mouth begins to water immediately when its aroma hits her.

Digging into the dish, Madge resumes looking around as she ate. They seemed to be in a conical tent.  
  
It was much larger and...lavish, than she was expecting. It was made of colorful cloth that hung over her almost like bedazzled drapes, while the bottom was lined with material so thick and plush, she had to remind herself that it sat above ground. What was most fascinating was the huge metal...pipe? Scooting closer, Madge saw that thin, vertical lines were carved into the wide pipe, and in the middle, sat a fire!

Looking up, Madge realizes that not only is this pipe what is structurally holding up the tent, but it allows for the smoke from the fire to escape, all while its metal warms up and diffuses the heat into the tent.

“How do you carry?” Madge asks the woman sitting next to her, who is crushing something in a mortar with a pestle.

“It is yurta,” the woman tries to explain, and Madge tries not to sigh in aggravation. She’ll get her answer one day, she supposes.

It was a testament to Madge’s hunger that by the time the young King enters from a flap, she is nearly done eating.

“Good?” the young King asks in Mercish. Madge quickly swallows her food and nods. He seems...haggard.

“Yes,” Madge replies in Seamski, an echo of their conversation earlier that day. “Who was it?”

Thankfully, he understands her question. “Capitalites,” he responds in a hard voice.

Madge brings up a hand to rest over her rapidly beating heart. How had Capitalian invaders come so far up North? Were Mercish defenses really that weak?

“Good now,” the young King says in Mercish again and Madge just sighs and nods. Nothing was ‘good’.

The young King takes a seat on some large pillows from across her and Madge resumes eating and watches the woman at work for the lack of anything else to do.

It seems that she was already finished, because she puts a lid on the mortar and hands it to her.

“For pain,” she whispers, before bowing to the young King and leaving them alone.

Madge swallows tightly at the implication, and tries to keep her breathing steady. That’s right, it was her wedding night after all.

Madge looks down at the silken pillow-bed she sat on. She never once imagined she would lose her maidenhood in a tent. At least it held the same opulence as an indoor castle...

The young King stands up, and Madge’s eyes are drawn to the sword he pulls off. While he had cleaned off the blood that had stained it earlier, it was not wiped from her memory. Her husband could kill people. _Had_ killed people.

Her trembling must be visible as she sets down her empty bowl and waits for him to approach her. Despite herself, Madge is flooded with the image of the young King snapping her neck single-handedly, watching with delight at how easily he had overcome her.

“I can’t do this!” Madge thinks desperately. He was so much larger than her, and he had all the training of a soldier- in no caliber would he be gentle with her.

A wave of dread washes over her. This is why he had so quickly chosen her to be his wife. He had seen the clear power imbalance in their statures, and lusted for how he could effortlessly dominate her physically.

Madge’s mind recalls whispers she had heard in her palace halls as she feels more than sees the young King approaching her. Women whispering about the brutality men exuded towards them, especially in bed. How they seemed to relish at their pain.

He kneels in front of her, and Madge bites her lip to keep from screaming.

_Please be gentle, please be gentle, please be gentle._

He reaches down and tugs off her traveling boot. Then the other. Setting them aside, he stands and walks over to a small chest. Opening it, he pulls out a quilt with an intricate geometrical design stitched onto it.

Wordlessly, he holds it out to her, and Madge hesitantly takes it. Finally looking up at him, she sees that he isn’t even looking at her.

“Goodnight,” is all he says before he returns to where he had been sitting, settling onto the pillows, his back to her.

Madge blinks once. Then twice.

Wasn’t he…?

Despite her earlier reaction, she stares at his back almost dejectedly. Why wasn’t he lying with her? Did he find her unattractive as a woman?

“I must pray,” she speaks up, because this silence is too stifling, and she can’t explain why, but she has the strangest urge to goad him into reacting, instead of just outright ignoring her.

He rolls over to look at her. “Then pray.”

“Do you not pray?” Madge asks stiffly, knowing she sounded every bit like a rigid nun. To her indignation, he smirks. In the lowlight of the covered fire, he should appear every bit as nefarious as she thought him to be just moments ago, but he doesn’t. He continues appearing outrageously handsome.

“I honor God by how I live,” he tells her, crossing his arms behind his head.

With a huff, Madge scoots off her bed and gets on her knees, this time her back to the young King.

Clasping her hands and closing her eyes, Madge decides to first pray for those who had been killed today, regardless of how righteously.

“Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine,” Madge begins, and although it is a sin, she pauses and glances behind her. The young King continues to watch her from where he lays, and Madge waits to see if he can finish the prayer.

Madge knew from her studies that Seamia followed the Orthodox Church, but it still grated her that he did not know such a basic prayer. She turns back around is about to continue praying when he speaks.

“Et lux perpetua luceat eis,” the young King finishes in a strong voice. His accent once again sets her heart aflutter and Madge finishes the rest of her prayers silently and quickly. She’s so eager to shut off her mind with sleep that she does not even read a single verse from her bible.

Once she’s settled on her bed again, and the only thing between them a crackling fire, all Madge can do is stare up the gleaming maroon.

Just who had she married?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I just make this its own story or will i lose readers.....
> 
> Also, I hope I didn't offend anyone with all the religious talk, it just makes sense, giving the setting. I'm not even Christian if that helps.
> 
> If you're interested about the tent described, it was based loosely off the kind the Nenet people of Siberia live in! Check it out, they're really cool.
> 
> EDIT: I'LL BE MAKING THIS ITS OWN FIC, SO IT WONT BE UPDATED HERE ANYMORE


	35. Living Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter rating: T
> 
> Content warning: None. This is NOT a zombie fic!!

The knock on his door jars him awake.

It takes him a moment to orient himself. He had fallen asleep watching the news again, and the static faces of the morning news anchor greet him blindingly. Another knock finally makes him stand with a groan, and an empty beer bottle falls from his lap.

Gale rubs his eyes tiredly as he makes his way to the door, body protesting with every step as he maneuvered various piles of garbage.

Opening the door reveals a wisp of a girl, wearing glasses so large it gave her the look of an owl. Her polite smile falters when she catches sight of him.

“Hello,” she greets unsurely, and Gale resists the urge to sneer. That’s right, this is what Panem’s “ heartthrob” general looks like on a Saturday morning: dead.

“What do you want,” Gale snaps, his hangover only worsening his usually foul mood.

“I-I’m from the Panem Restoration Society,” the girl begins, still looking hesitant. “A safe recovered from 12 was finally opened, and in it was a letter addressed to you. Legally, it’s your property, though if you wish to turn it over to the society, we will accept it.”

Gale narrows his eyes suspiciously at her. “Must be a helluva letter for it to be hand delivered by one you.” He understood how these operations worked- she must have only come if there was some gain in it for her.

The girl purses her lips and pauses.

“Honestly? We usually do just mail things out,” she tells him finally. “But I actually read this letter and I...I just thought I’d make sure it got to you.”

Curiosity finally got the best of him. “Well are you gonna hand it over?”

The girl nods quickly and pulls the letter out of her purse, handing it to him.

Gale’s breath hitches as he stares at the proffered item. Sometimes little remnants from his life in 12 managed to sneak up on him, twisting his insides with both remorse and nostalgia. The envelope held the same effect. How long had it been since he had seen a thin brown envelope tied together by a string.

He finally takes the letter and looks up at the girl. Her features have softened.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Hawthorne,” she whispers, turning and leaving without giving him any information for contacting the Restoration Society if he wanted to donate the letter.

Gale stumbles back into his house and pulls back the curtains so that there’s some light to read with.

Settling back in the spot he had fallen asleep in the night before, he flips the envelope over so he can see the address.

 

_To Mr. Gale Hawthorne_

_House 514, The Seam, D12_

 

Gale allows himself to stare at his old address for just a few moments, forcing himself to undo the bow that kept the envelope clasped shut. When he finally pulls out several sheets of paper, they’re frayed and yellow, clearly belaying its age. Who had been writing a letter to him back in 12?

_Dear Gale,_

_If you’re reading this, I’m dead._

Gale pauses and blinks in shock, not at all expecting such a blunt introduction.

_Truthfully, I’ve debated for several moments now if I should even write this letter to you. If it’s true that 12 will be bombed tonight, the odds of this measly piece of paper reaching your hands are not favorable. And if your eyes_ do  _read these words, regardless of the time that’s passed since they’ve been written, there waits the large risk of the pain that comes when one learns a truth they’ve never known._

_I don’t have much time, so I’ve decided to write this letter anyways. Because if this letter survives the bombing, the rebellion that’s sure to follow, and whatever other trails it may see-but still finds its way to you...well, then it must be fated._

_I would be surprised if you_ hadn’t  _received a letter of this capacity before. Surely a brave girl or two had snuck her written fancies into your bag covertly as you walked by them in the school halls. Or the shyer ones had left anonymous declarations on your desk when you returned from the bathroom. You are rather handsome, aren’t you?_

Gale frowns as he reads the cursive words. Did he just get a fucking  _love letter_ from the grave?

_You’ll have to pardon the assumption, but I like to think I’m different from those girls, even if I do find you heartracing-ly beautiful. The difference between me and those girls, though, is that I love you Gale. I love you more than life, and I can prove my devotion with a quick summary of a particular day from my personal history. Unfortunately, the overlap of this day and the worst day of_ your  _l_ _ife is a circle, so I must ask you to bare that unjust pain, one last time._

_My Father had not been sleeping well, and the decline in his health grew more and more obvious each day. My Mother, as you know, had been lost to the world of illness for years, and it seized me with terrible fear to think my Father could join her. Apart from him, I could not say definitively that anyone loved me._

Gale tries to ransack his mind for girls with sick mothers. He shakes his head and continues reading. There had been too many.

_So I had taken it upon myself to deliver a hand cooked meal to my Father every day come lunch hour._

Wait, what? Miners took their lunches underground, how had she gotten the food delivered?

_I had nearly reached the Justice Building when I saw a congregation of people, both Seam and Townsfolk alike. That wasn’t what propelled me forward. I just_ knew  _that something terrible awaited me._

Instinctively, Gale did too, and the same pain that always came when he thought of his whipping burned the scars on his back.

_Forgive me, my love, for not jumping out and taking the lash for you like Katniss had. I will die with this guilt, just as I lived with it. I had meant to, truly and from the bottom of my heart, I had, but when I saw your back...I rushed into an alleyway to vomit, unable to keep it down. By the time I was able to stagger back, Katniss already stood before you, face bleeding. When I think about it in these terms, it does not surprise me that you would choose Katniss a hundred times over me. Then again, your love for her never shocked me._

_Still- if I could have taken every lash for you, I would I would I would._

_Father had to help me back home since I was a sobbing mess. I could not shut off the sound of your anguished cries in my mind, and all I could do was rival them with my own._

_I don’t know how, but from the moment I met you, Mother had somehow figured out I loved you. Or at least I would. That was the day, I think, that my Father figured it out. That’s why, when my Mother passed me not one, not two, but three vials of morphling- the drug she would absolutely die without, and I shrugged on my coat and ran into the blizzard during curfew, my Father did not stop me._

Gale drops the paper, unable to read further.

Madge Undersee’s mother had been the District’s morphling. Madge Undersee’s Father had worked in the Justice Building.

But this letter….surely, _surely_ it could not have been penned by her.

_I had no fear of peacekeepers, freezing to death, or any other danger that lurked in the dark. I had only one thought: I must help Gale._

_I do not write this so you feel obliged or indebted to me. That’s the last thing I want. After all, a deed done in love requires no payment._

_I write this because I have no way of convincing you, my angry Seam boy, just how much I, that prissy daughter of the Mayor you hate so much, love you._

Gale covers his face roughly as his entire body shakes. His mind’s eye recalls blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, full lips, and wavy blonde hair. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he has to sniffle.

Madge Undersee had saved his life. Madge Undersee had  _loved_ him. And he could never, ever see her again.

He fights for composure so he can finish reading.

_I’m sure you’re surprised. I certainly never hinted at it, though I had my obvious reasons. But tell me, how could I just watch the bravest, most selfless man risk his life to provide for his family every day and not fall in love? How could I look at your gray eyes and peer into your fiery soul without loving the revolutionary that shined through?_

_I don’t know if Katniss is still alive. If she is, I hope you finally get your happy ending with her. Maybe you two are married and have children. I envy them, how beautiful they must be!_

No, he wishes to tell her, Katniss and I didn’t have a happy ending. There was no ending. Just betrayal.

_If she isn’t alive...I hope a new love enters your life. A woman that sees your strength, your spirit- that blazing fire in your heart, and cherishes it with every atom in her body._

_And if you have not yet found the woman who will be your wife, let this letter serve as tangible proof that even when you thought you had no one, in the shadows there existed someone who loved you totally and desperately. And if there’s any way to watch over you, I still do._

_I can’t say I’m going to die without any regrets. I wish I had said this to you while I was still alive. I wish I knew the feel of your arms around me, and your lips upon mine- even just once. And I must confess, during those long summer nights where the heat and the crickets kept me awake, I would shed my nightgown and imagine you above me, a baby or three in a bassinet beside us. But if I had to choose between a life where I never knew you and I had every happiness in the world, versus the exact life I have lived, I would choose this life. I cannot tell you how I_ lived  _for those Strawberry Sundays, dreaming,_ praying _you would speak to me- or even_ look _at me that week._

_Mostly, though, I just wished you loved me too._

Gale is so breathless, he feels faint. He gets up to get a glass of water, but ends up sinking to his knees after just a step. Every word he read felt like a shrapnel to the chest. He had let her  _die_ , and she still loved him. But of course, she had died not knowing he would become a monster

He rolls onto his back and tries to regulate his breathing and fails. He scrubs his face with his hands and picks the letter back up.

_If there is a God with even a shred of compassion, though, I truly believe that you and I will meet again. If I remember you, I will grab you by the cotton collar of your shirt, and bring my mouth so close to your ear, you will hear my words before they even leave my lips. If I don’t remember you, I have no doubt I will love you all over again, but hopefully, this time, I will have the courage to tell you how I feel. And maybe, just maybe, this time, you’ll love me back._

_Live the beautiful, meaningful life you were destined to have, Gale. Change the world, because I know you can. Most importantly, don’t let your fire burn you out. The revolution lives within you._

_Love, forever,_

_Madge Undersee_

Gale stares into space blankly, chest numb. His fire had burned out long ago. The same day his bombs had gone off.

And there was no one to rekindle it.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh yeah. Blame, again, Wuthering Heights.


	36. Lana

Stacy leans up just a little to kiss him. When she pulls away, she pouts.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” she sighs, holding him by the shirt to pull him closer to her. “11 is so far…”

“It’s just two weeks,” Gale reminds her as he continues reading an email on his communicuff. When he finishes, he puts down his hand and gives her a small smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Stacy Longfield was gorgeous, with long and light brown hair, and even lighter green eyes. She was tall, intelligent, extremely hard-working, and the first woman Gale’s been with formally since the war ended. Their relationship had begun as colleagues that worked well together, and even though she moved in with him nearly two months ago, Gale can’t help but feel the tiniest bit relieved for this reprieve from his girlfriend. He craved solitude that he just couldn’t find in 2.

“Don’t get mixed up with any 11 girls,” Stacy warns teasingly, pulling him down for another kiss. This time he kisses back.

“With what,” he chuckles against her lips. “Their tractors?”

 

* * *

 

“As you can see from figure 2.5, projections show a negative trend that sharply reverses when introduced to-”

“What’s the p-value and T distribution of this data?” Gale interrupts the seedy businessman’s tirade. He’d normally be more polite, but it's hot as hell in 11, and it’s as if these people have never heard of air conditioning.

“I...will have to look that up for you, a moment please,” he answers with a strained smile as he adjusts his glasses before sorting through his large file. Gale nods and leans back into his chair, looking around the dark control room that he’s taken up in. There are only a few people at their computers, and more than half of them are chatting with whoever sat next to them. No wonder nothing got done in 11.

The main door is opened then, and to Gale’s shock, a very young girl strolls in, her bright orange hat sticking out even in the dim lighting.

A woman working close to the door looks around the room bewilderedly before slowly getting up and moving to the girl, who on her part, looks around serenely.

“Excuse me um, Miss,” the woman begins hesitantly. “Are you lost?

The little girl shakes her head no.

“I’m looking for the room with all the goven’ment secrets,” she says a matter of factly.

Gale doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until he frowns at the business man’s scoff.

“Children these days,” he mutters under his breath. “So entitled…”

The guy has clearly never been around any kids. Rory, Vick, and Posy had all been the noisiest kids alive, and Gale had no doubt he was too. Curiosity was only natural.

“I’m afraid I can’t take you there,” the woman handling the situation says both amusedly and slightly confused. “Do one of your parents work here?”

Ignoring the woman’s question, the little girl sighs and takes something out of her pocket. “I haffa permit.”

Hesitantly, the woman takes the paper from her.

“I can go anywhere I want,” the woman reads flatly. Several people in the room laugh, and Gale can’t help but chuckle along. It’s been a long time since he’s witnessed shenanigans, and it reminds him of how much he sharply misses it.

“Why is everybody laugh-en?” the little girl asks in a quiet voice, nearly tearful voice.

Gale immediately gets up and goes over to the door, shushing the now frantic woman.

Crouching down, he puts on his friendliest smile. “What’s your name, girl?”

The girl looks up from her feet, and Gale nearly falls over as he finds himself staring into the face of Posy Hawthorne herself.

But that can’t be, because Posy is nearly 11 years old, not the five-year-old that stands in front of him, but sure enough, all the features are there.

“Lana,” the girl sniffles, and Gale forces himself to look away from the Seam Gray of her eyes.

“Well Lana,” Gale croaks, standing up and taking the ‘permit’ from the woman who’s just standing by uselessly. “This is-”

Gale stops speaking when he reads what’s actually written.

I KAN GO ANIWAЯE I WAMT

  
-LANA UNDEЯSEE

* * *

  
_Six years ago, D12_

He should have known coming out to watch the games in the square was a fucking terrible idea. Now he has to endure the entire fucking district shooting him looks of pity after the entire country just watched Katniss and Peeta kiss like two newlyweds on their marriage bed.

The worst part? Katniss had initiated the kiss, right after Mellark name fucking dropped him as a reason to live.

And so in the summer’s evening air of 12, Gale realizes publically that Katniss did not love him.

“Gale,” Ma begins quietly, but he cuts her off shortly.

“I’m going to take a walk,” he says curtly, turning around without waiting for her response. Normally, such behavior would result in a smack on the back of his head, but Ma had grown almost demure with him since the whipping. He hears Rory quiet Posy before he pushes into the murmuring crowd.

He’s broken out of the thickest part when he notices that someone else had left the square before him seemingly uninterested in the post-game conversations, and she was busy doodling away in some sort of notebook.

It’s the act of Madge Undersee _drawing_ of all things that's the final straw in setting him off. With a rage so intense he literally feels steam coming out of his ears, he storms forward, easily catching up to her short strides.

He knows it’s wrong, that he’s simply projecting the humiliation and hurt of heartbreak into anger, but goddamn if the Mayor’s perfect daughter isn’t the perfect outlet for it.

Grabbing her arm, he whirls the Mayor’s daughter around, ignoring her look of panic.

“What’cha got there, Undersee,” Gale sneers viciously. “Immortalising your favorite moments?”

Her panic morphs into plain shock. She stares at him for just a moment before her eyes dart to the side of him.

“Peacekeepers,” she whispers, making his entire body go rigid. He could only imagine how many lashes Thread would dole out to him for manhandling the Mayor’s kid. Enough that even Mrs. E’s magic medicine would be unable to help with, he was sure.

“Slip your arm through mine,” Madge’s quiet voice pulls him from his terror. “And then start walking. Don’t look back.”

Optionless, he does exactly as she says. Walking down the street arm in arm with Madge Undersee, completely exposed to rabid Peacekeepers, sounds literally like a scene from one of his nightmares, but soon enough they turn into an alleyway and Madge slips away from him to peer out of it.

“All clear,” she sighs. “You should be ok.”

Gale stares at her stupidly. To think he had gone over to pick a fight with her, and now he stood before her, indebted for saving him from the stocks.

“Gale?” Madge says questioningly. He realizes that this is the first time he’s ever heard her say his name.

“I’m sorry,” Gale whispers, shutting his eyes tightly. If he was alone, he’d probably break down crying. Nothing ever went right in his life. He was so pathetic. “I’m sorry Madge. I need to- I should...I should go.”

“Katniss loving Peeta doesn’t mean no one loves you,” Madge suddenly blurts to his turned back.

Gale pauses but doesn’t look back. He would never, ever consider speaking about his feelings with Madge, but at the moment, he feels so lost, he can’t help but reply.

“He’s soft and warm and kind,” Gale whispers as he swallows tightly. “And I’m...just too much for her, I guess.”

“Or maybe Katniss isn’t enough for you,” Madge says quietly. At this, Gale turns around. Her face is uncertain, but her posture is straight.

“What do you mean?” Gale asks slowly.

She looks away from him nervously and shrugs.

“The qualities you possess, Gale,” even from his distance he can see her swallow. “Are all commendable. The right woman wouldn’t find you too much; she’d find you perfect as you are.”

“How can you say that,” Gale argues. “After I just grabbed you?”

Madge shrugs again. “I know you’d never hurt me.”

Gale’s eyes widen at her words and her face immediately flushes.

“A-anyways, you asked me earlier what I was drawing,” Madge stammers, pulling out her small notebook from the pocket of her skirt. “Look at this.”

Stepping forward to her, he takes the book from her, ignoring the literal electricity he feels when their skin touches.

Gale frowns as he takes in the drawing. “Is this…?”

Madge nods. “The arena.”

Gale looks up at her sharply. “It’s a clock!”

“Maybe,” Madge says. “I just couldn’t help but notice patterns in the traps they have set out and I- what?”

Madge’s face is bright red as Gale stares at her. Clearing his throat, he forces himself to look back down at her sketch.

“Nothing,” he says, clearing his voice again as it comes out unusually deeper. “This is just...Damn Undersee, you’re a genius.”

“Am not,” Madge murmurs, face growing redder. “Besides, it’s just a theory. I could be totally wrong.”

Gale shakes his head. “Now that you’ve pointed it out, it’s so obvious. If only there were a way to tell-.”

Gale cuts himself off right before he utters Katniss’s name. Madge looks away from him.

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly, still not looking at him. “I wish I could warn her too.”

Gale looks back down at the drawing and traces a finger along the ink. It’s only beginning to hit him just how much more there is to Madge Undersee than he ever thought.

“It’s getting dark,” he comments suddenly. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh,” she looks surprised at his offer. “I-I’ll be ok.”

Gale shakes his head and holds out his arm. Madge stares at him bewilderedly, and he gives her a tiny smile.

“For the peacekeepers.”

Hesitantly, Madge slides her arm into his and Gale pulls her into his side, handing her back her notebook.

The road back to the Mayor’s house is deserted, and Gale can’t describe the feeling he has as walks side by side with Madge. Just earlier, he had had his heart broken, and now he’s wondering if Katniss was ever right for him.

_Maybe Katniss isn’t enough for you_

Then that left the question...who was?

“Thank you for walking me back,” Madge says shyly once they reach her fence. “Normally my Father would, but he’s been coming home at midnight lately, and I-”

“You’re home alone?” Gale asks sharply, gut-twisting at that for some reason.

“Well, mostly,” Madge answers, surprised. “My Mother....is there, but as you know, she’s...ill.”

He glances at the imposingly large house and imagines Madge inside of it, floating around all on her own. The image didn’t sit well with him.

“Would you like to come in?” Madge invites him breathlessly, resolutely looking at her feet. “I still have some strawberries from Sunday. Or maybe some tea. Or nothing, if that’s what you want. Of course, you don’t have to-”

“Sure,” Gale interrupts her. “I’ll come in.”

It’s hard to tell who’s more shocked, him or her, at his answer. Still, Madge nods and even smiles widely at him, before tugging him inside.

Stepping into the Mayor’s kitchen feels almost dreamlike. Suddenly, he remembers a story Ma tells Posy. About a Prince climbing into a trapped Princess’s tower.

“So strawberries then?” Madge asks as she slips off her shoes.

“Strawberries,” Gale confirms in a hoarse voice. That’s what he wants her to taste like when he kisses her.

“I know most people eat them with sugar, but I like it natural, is that ok?” Madge asks over her shoulder as she takes out the fruit from a fridge. He’s never seen an actual fridge before.

“I like it natural too,” Gale answers, walking to her turned back. It’s like he’s 15 again and seeing her for the first time; all he wants to do is _pounce_.

Madge turns around with the bowl in her hands and jumps when she realizes how close he’s standing to her.

Not breaking eye contact, Gale reaches down and plucks a ripe berry from the bowl, bringing it to his mouth. When he swallows, he dares to ask Madge the inevitable question.

“Do you find me too much, Madge?”

Madge doesn’t flush or look surprised. Instead, she looks almost resigned.

“No,” she answers steadily.

“Too little?” he prods.

Again, she replies, “No.”

He takes the bowl from her hands and sets it on the counter next to them. Her eyes are already closed when he looks back at her. Bringing one hand to tangle in the softest hair he’s ever felt, and letting the other wrap around her hip, Gale kisses her.

All his life, Gale has sought to control whatever variable fell into his domain of power. When Gale kissed girls at the slag heap, there was always the purpose of instant gratification, and it was always all very controlled. But kissing Madge blows out all thoughts of power and control from his mind. There is only her, her soft skin, her sweet smell, and the melodic noises she makes in his ear.

They don’t even make it to her bedroom. Stumbling onto a couch, Gale explores the body she’s always hidden behind that drab school uniform. Good God, no wonder nearly every Town guy was totally enamored with her. She was a bombshell underneath that innocent face.

But it’s the very essence of her that makes him throw caution to the wind, and be with her in a way he never even dared to fantasize. Sweet, sweet Madge. Who was all shyness and wit. A pretty face and soft voice. A big house and even bigger heart. It’s only when he’s inside her does he wonder if Madge is enough for him.

When it’s over, for a moment he just hovers above her, their breaths mixing. Her eyes are closed and her cheeks are pink and truly she is so beautiful, and Gale realizes in that moment that what they just did must never happen again.

It will only hurt her, and he wasn’t sadistic enough to tear away a safe future from a person so kind, so genuine.

If only he knew just how much he had hurt Madge, when he left without a word.

If only he knew just how much it would hurt  _him_ , when he found out Madge had died.

Or so he thought. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back ;)
> 
> And yes, this is nearly a rip off of my other story, To be Human, with less angst, which is why I made Gale more stable lol. He's still messed up in this universe, but he's more or less forced himself to move on with his actions.


	37. Lana 2

It’s as if he can’t breathe or see, all he can do is relive. Madge Undersee, Madge Undersee, she was alive! She was alive and-

The door reopens, and the arrival of a security guard pulls Gale from his painful flashback.

“You’ll have to come with me, miss,” the guard says to little Lana, who shrinks into herself. Gale feels such a surge of protectiveness that he nearly punches the guard in the face as he stands.

“I’ve got this covered,” he tells the guard flatly. To Lana, he gives a strained smile. “Are you hungry?”

“Sir, this isn’t protocol,” the guard argues irritably. It was getting harder and harder not to deck the man.

“She’s with me,” Gale snaps. “She’s my-”

_Daughter._ Oh dear God. Intuitively, he had known just who she was the moment he had laid his eyes on her, but to think the word in such clear terms...Lana was his very own flesh and blood, and she was frightened.

“She’s with me,” Gale finishes strongly, daring the portly guard to argue as he stared him down.

The radio on the guard’s hip goes off, and he throws up his hands. “If you’ve got this covered then,” he grumbles, shooting Lana one last look before leaving the room again.

Although there are still people in the room, he finally feels alone with Lana. Crouching once more, he’s shocked to find her large eyes glassy.

“Are you gonna ‘rest me?” she asks fearfully.

“I would never, ever let anyone hurt you,” Gale promises her right there and then. He wants so badly to reach out and gather her to his chest, to kiss her lovely face, to feel her, to love her, but they haven’t known each other for even five minutes and he doesn’t want to scare her off.

Lana nods and sniffles. “‘Cause I haffa permit.”

“Sure,” Gale chuckles.

Rubbing away her tears with her hands, Lana smiles brightly at him. “So you can take me to all the secret rooms?”

“Sir,” the woman who was speaking to Lana earlier interrupts. “Apparently the local elementary school is on a field trip to Town Hall today. I think this little one slipped out of her group.”

That probably explained the bright orange hat, which didn’t really go with the pastel colors Lana wore.

“Is this true, Lana?” Gale asks gently.

“Yes,” Lana has the grace to look sheepish.

“General, sir, the projections…” the businessman calls out, but Gale waves him off.

“I’ll review them later,” he tells him. To Lana, he holds out his hand slowly.

“I’ll walk you back and make sure you don’t get in any trouble,” he offers, ridiculously nervous about rejection from a first grader.

To his relief, Lana puts up no qualms and slips her tiny hand into his without a thought.

Gale nearly sobs at the contact. He was holding the hand of his baby girl…In his palm was her palm, and under her palm ran the same blood his heart was pumping out rapidly. It takes every ounce of his self-control to not scoop her up to his chest and just run.

“Let’s go,” Gale whispers, voice hoarse. Lana doesn’t seem to notice his near meltdown and merely walks alongside him without a care, arm swinging slightly as she looked around.

Everything about her is precious. From her pale yellow shoes with red flowers stitched around the sides, up to her blue overalls that sit on top of a white shirt with a smiling face on it. He wants badly to take off the orange hat to see if she had also inherited her hair from him or-

_Madge_

Initial joy of realizing she was indeed alive a little processed, Gale realizes with a terrible sinking feeling that after how he treated her, Madge may want nothing to do with him, and worse still, not let him have anything to do with Lana.

“Lana!”

Both Father and Daughter turn at the frantic call, and running towards them is a frazzled looking woman with short red hair.

“There you are!” the woman nearly cries, gathering Lana into a tight hug. Gale can’t help but be envious. “Lana, you know you can’t sneak away from the group, why did you do that?”

Lana looks at him expectantly and he gives her a wink.

“She got a little turned around is all,” Gale tells who he assumes is the teacher. “No harm done.”

“I’m sorry,” the teacher frowns, letting go of Lana but keeping an arm around her shoulders. “Who are you?”

_Her Dad_ he so badly wants to answer. But he can’t, not yet. Not until he’s earned that title.

“A passerby,” is all he says. Crouching down, he sticks out his hand for Lana to shake. “It was very nice meeting you, little dove. I hope we meet again.”

Lana shakes his hand, seemingly excited at doing something “grown up”. When she grins, he sees that she’s missing a bottom tooth.

“Bye Mister!” Lana says in goodbye, tugged away by her teacher who’s glaring at him suspiciously.

Gale stands there until they’re out of sight. Then he runs down to I.T.

“You,” he points to the first techie he sees down there, which happens to be a young guy in green plaid. “I need you to look up something for me.”

“But I-I’m not,” the techie stammers confusedly, but is quickly nudged by a coworker.

“He’s a _general,”_ even from where he stands, Gale can hear the hiss. The techie seems pained before adjusting his glasses.

“What can I look for you, sir?”

Gale walks closer so that he can see the computer screen. “I need everything you have on Madge Undersee.”

 

* * *

 

Even after the war, 11 isn’t the richest district. It was safe to say most of its population met a low but amicable living standard and seemed content with it. He certainly understands why they turn up their noses at 2’s skyscrapers and general decadence; even the air here is sweetly simple.

Sweetly simple. That could be used to describe the house Madge owns. It wasn’t very large, but its paint was bright, there were flowers in the front and a grassy field behind it. Back in 12, a home like this, but in the woods, was his daydream.

Like the fucking coward he is, he pauses at the door. The windows are open, and he can hear a radio station playing classical music. The bright blue skies are an exact inverse to the gray winds that rattle inside him, making his joints feel weak.

“Lana!”

Just as he’s about to knock, a voice he hasn’t heard in six years calls out from inside of the house.

“Come down, lunch is ready!” Gale breathes heavily as he listens to Lana scamper down the stairs. He could have been a part of this. This could have been his family if he hadn’t been such a fuck-up, if he had reached her house quicker, had searched more extensively. Had let her in.

Gale knocks on the door and waits. On the other side of the wood lay his entire future.

He hears the tumblers of the door unlock, and a moment later, Gale is peering into the alluring face of Madge Undersee herself once more, after what truly feels like a lifetime.

For a while, they just stare at each other, too absorbed in taking each other in to say anything. The years have been kind to her, physically at least. He always thought of her as pretty, but adulthood had erased that nervous tint that always seemed to color her aura.

“Who is it Ma?” Lana asks from inside the house. Her voice snaps Madge out of her shock, and in an instant, her features are icy.

“Give me a second baby,” Madge answers back, before stepping forward. To avoid being stepped on, Gale steps back and finds himself being herded out before Madge firmly shuts the door behind her.

“I don’t know how you found out,” Madge says in a low voice, her eyes angrier than he’s ever seen. “But I’m giving you thirty seconds to get the hell out of here.”

What was he expecting? For Madge to pull him in for a kiss and rainbows and kittens? Still, her hatred makes his throat burn.

“Madge, please,” Gale pleads. “I understand why you’d want me dead, but hear me out-”

“What, Gale?” Madge interrupts loudly, chest heaving. “What are you going to tell me that I don’t know? Why on _Earth_ would I want to talk to the man who fucked me, ignored me, knocked me up, and left me for dead?”

Gale can’t even speak. He stares at her as shame threatens to burn him from the inside out. Her eyes fill with tears.

“I don’t know what I _ever_ saw in you,” Madge continues, and for a moment, Gale thinks she’s going to hit him. “But I don’t ever want to see anymore!”

With that, Madge returns inside and slams the door shut. And then the windows.

In the distance, it thunders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured if there were a universe where Madge really hated Gale, it'd be this one. 
> 
> Also, Lana isn't derived from Lana Del Ray, even if I love her music. It apparently means "little rock", which I found fitting. It also fits the Hawthorne tradition of a four-letter nature name ;)
> 
> Sidenote, I've decided to cap this collection at ch. 100. If I ever reach that lol. So you have about 65 chances to get a prompt in, and then its over! Probably.


	38. Lana 3

He’s balanced on a thread, and he knows if he falls, he’ll fall hard.

It’s been years since he’s felt this terrible, and the last time he was this depressed, he didn’t hesitate in bringing out the alcohol to try and numb himself. But he has a daughter now; he can’t return to his old ways.

But the nicotine from the several cigarettes he’s consumed, unfortunately, has not helped at all. For hours he’s been trying to come up with ways of trying to get Lana into his life while fighting intrusive thoughts like _you should die for your crimes._

He’s sitting in the empty bathtub of his even emptier hotel room wondering how one man can be just so despicable when his cuff goes off. Glancing at the caller, Gale wants to groan.

In between finding out he had a daughter, the woman who he’s never been sure about how he’s felt is still alive, and reliving the worst moments of his life, he had forgotten he has a girlfriend.

“Hey,” Gale greets in a monotone, wondering how big of a fuss she’d make if he just broke up with her now.

_“Hi sweety,”_ Stacy says cheerfully, missing the flatness in his tone. _“How was your first day in 11?”_

Where did he even begin?

“I have a question for you,” Gale says, ignoring her own question. Leaning his head against the tile, he decides he’ll tell her about Lana later when he has more energy. “Do you love me?”

_“Of course I do...were you unsure of the fact?”_

“Not really,” Gale shrugs his shoulders. “Just wondering why.”

_“Is everything alright, Gale?”_ when Gale doesn’t answer, she sighs, and continues. _“I love you because you’re handsome. Smart. Funny. I just like_ being _with you.”_

“A bomb I designed in the war was dropped on medics and children,” Gale blurts. “I did a lot of other terrible things under the guise of righteousness. Do you still love me?”

_“Were they Capitalites?”_ is all Stacy asks.

Gale stares at his cuff in disgust.

“Does it matter?” Gale snaps. “All children are innocent, and the medics were just helping people. It’s unjustifiable.”

_“Look, Gale,”_ Stacy begins impatiently. _“That’s what makes it a war: people dying. We fought it so people would stop dying. Instead of thinking about some Capital brats that would have grown up to oppress us, why don’t you worry about_ us? _I call you because I miss you and you guiltily sprout out war stories that you should be proud of.”_

Gale understands now why he had been attracted to Stacy in the beginning. She had drawn in who he used to be.

Somehow, this conversation triggers him far worse than anything Madge had said to him. There are whispers echoing off the walls.

“You have no idea who I am,” Gale says finally. Stacy is still saying something when he hangs up. He turns off his cuff.

Taking one last drag, he crushes the still burning butt into the bare skin of his thigh.

He needs to make the whispers stop; he has work tomorrow, and he doesn’t want his daughter to have a bum of a dad.

Well, a bigger bum than he already was

* * *

 

The conference room they put him in has a lot more light than the control room he had been holed up in yesterday, and the early morning sun burns his sleep-deprived eyes and he waits for the dumbass businessman to show up and finish the presentation. Truthfully, Gale doesn’t even remember what it was about.  
He takes a sip from the complimentary coffee when the door opens.

“General Hawthorne!” Gale winces at his loud tone. “I’m so glad we can continue this meeting. In fact, I brought over one of our top financial analysts to expedite the entire process.”

Gale glances up and nearly spills his scalding coffee all over his lap. Standing behind the seedy businessman with a killer glare is, of course, Madge.

He had read yesterday that Madge was an accountant working for a federal contractor, but he would never have guessed she sat in on such high-level meetings.

“Uh, hi,” Gale springs up and looks pointedly at the wall behind her. “Do you want some coffee? Breakfast? I can get you-”

“Let’s just begin the meeting,” Madge says icily, walking past him and taking a seat three chairs down from where he sat.

Gale plops back down in his seat miserably. Taking a seat across from him, Gale can tell the businessman is having a hard time containing his curiosity.

“Here are the notes you requested, Mr. Howard,” Madge slides over a folder to Howard, who takes it with a nod. She resolutely refuses to look at Gale, and her body is rigid with palpable tension.

“Why don’t you run this meeting, General?” Howard offers with a winning smile. “What are your primary concerns?”

A light bulb goes off in his head.

Clearing his throat, he straightens his posture and folds his hands together professionally.

“Well Mr. Harold I think I should start with my priorities,” Gale begins confidently.

“It’s How-No, that sounds great General,” Harold-or was it Howard?- says with a strained smile. “Please continue.”

“I want to go to the core of the problem, I want to fix every crack in the foundation. I want to water it, I want it to flower. I want to take responsibility,” the more he talks, the more his voice grows softer, and the more Harold/Howard looks confused. “I know I’ve made mistakes and I- I know it's not deserved, but if you just gave me one last chance, I could prove it to you. I swear on my Father’s grave.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Madge cover her face and mutter something under her breath while Howard/Harold stares at him blankly.

“Sir...you understand we’re offering our NGO patent to the department of defense?” Harold/Howard questions almost unbelievingly.

Gale is too busy staring at Madge, who’s finally looked over at him. She looks just as, if not more so, as tired as him. Another pang of guilt rips through him. He was the reason she wasn’t well-rested.

“What- what is your opinion on this, Miss?” Gale asks in a tiny voice, as his heart hammered away with hope.

Madge continues to stare at him expressionlessly before sighing and looking away.

Sorting through some papers, she says, “In my most _professional_ opinion, I think you should close this deal.”

Gale deflates at her answer but turns to Howard/Harold anyways. “I’ll close it, then.”

It seems Harold/Howard has hit his limit. “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” Madge answers as she stands up. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Howard, if you don’t need me anymore, I haven’t had breakfast yet, and I think the cafe across the street has opened.”

“I- I haven’t had breakfast yet either!” Gale adds quickly, also standing up. Madge gives him a withering look but doesn’t say anything. Why would she have mentioned where she was going if she didn’t want him to follow?

“But General, I’ll need your signatures and finalizing the documents will take-”

“Just send them to my secretary,” Gale interrupts him as he follows Madge’s small frame out.

Gale shuts the door behind them and catches up to her in three strides, even though she’s speed walking.

“I cannot believe the stunt you just pulled in there,” Madge hisses while not looking at him.

“It might have been my last chance to ever speak to you,” Gale nearly whines. “Please don’t be mad, all I’m asking is for a single chance for you to hear my side. Please, Madge.”

She doesn’t answer, so he tries the most important angle.

“For Lana?”

Madge stops without warning, and when he looks down at her, her face is bright red.

_“Lana,”_ Madge stresses. “Is the only reason why I’m speaking to you right now, and I hope you know this. So keep your mouth shut until we’re at the cafe and have some privacy.”

Now that she’s pointed it out, he realizes several people are staring at them from their offices. He was never good at tact.

Somehow, he manages to keep his mouth sealed all the way to the cafe. He doesn’t offer to pay for Madge’s order because he has a feeling she’d bash him on the head if he did. He gets himself another black coffee. He isn’t sure his nerves would let him keep anything else down.

Madge leads them to a small table in a secluded corner, a high window illuminating her blonde hair golden.

They sit down with their respective items and Madge crosses her arms over her chest.

“You have five minutes,” Madge lets him now. “Then I decide if you deserve to be in Lana’s life or not.”

Gale nods quickly, not wanting to start an argument on her terms and conditions just yet.

“Madge I’m sorry for walking away from you that night,” Gale immediately blurts. “I know to you it must have looked like I was only using you to forget about Katniss.”

She isn’t quick enough in hiding her wince, but she manages to keep her face blank when she scoffs, “Weren’t you?”

Gale shakes his head. “The moment I stepped into your house, it’s as if Katniss didn’t even exist anymore.”

“Oh, great,” Madge laughs sardonically. “I was just another random lay. There wasn’t even any special purpose behind it!”

He couldn’t fault her for her bitterness, but he needed her to understand just how far from the truth she was.

“It was something I had never felt before,” Gale says quietly. “Something I...have never felt again.”

“Oh, quit the crap Gale,” Madge snaps. “Everyone and their Mother knew about your little exploits. I just can’t believe I was stupid enough to be added to the list.”

“Madge, I gave you my virginity,” Gale says bluntly, deciding that’s the easiest way to go. “The first time I had actual sex was with you.”

Her large blue eyes grow even larger as she widens them. He can tell she wasn’t expecting this.

“That can’t be,” Madge says almost to herself. “The slag heap…”

“Was where I made out with girls,” Gale finishes for her. Face growing warm, he adds, “And, you know....hand stuff. Some mouth stuff but uh, always receiving.”

Madge closes her eyes and Gale scratches the back of his neck self-consciously. Did he score or lose points by admitting he never went down on a girl? Was it too soon to add he’d only do that if he loved her?

“Is that all to your tale?” Madge finally speaks again. She looks much more put together, but he notices that her cheeks have a pink tint.

“No!” Gale assures her. “That’s why I went on to ignore you, because we never could have been happy together, and I didn’t want to string you along.”

“Why would we have not been happy?” Madge asks even though she looks like she wishes she didn’t.

Gale looks down into his mug. “C’mon Madge, you know why. I was an ass poor miner and you...There’s no way I could ever ask you to leave everything and live in a shanty with me.”

He looks up when Madge opens her mouth but she shuts it without saying anything. Her eyes look clouded.

“The night of the bombing,” Gale has to clear his suddenly hoarse voice. “I went back for you, Madge. Truly and honestly I did, but I was too late. I saw the bomb fall on it. I tried to go closer and look, but there was just so much fire.”

“If I had known…” Gale trails off as he shuts his eyes tightly, imaging 16-year-old Madge, alone and pregnant, in a bombed District. The whispers were beginning again. “Thousands of people died because of me that night, and not finding you is just another failure on top of that. It means nothing now, but truly Madge, I’m sorry.”

“Gale, I have to apologize to you,” Madge whispers. Gale’s eyes fly open in shock- what was _she_ sorry for?

Madge sniffles and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. “For years, I’ve blamed you for leaving me to die, when really there’s only one person to blame for that.”

“Snow is the only one that’s guilty,” Madge tells him strongly, and all Gale can do is stare at her bewilderedly. “You can’t keep going on thinking like that.”

He continues to stare at her while she levels him with her own unrelenting gaze before he finally chuckles.

“You should be dumping this hot coffee over my head,” Gale gets in between his quiet laughter. “I have never met a person with a kinder heart than you, Madge.”

Madge frowns and looks away from him. “You still don’t know if I’ll let you see Lana or not.”

“I’ll probably die from a broken heart if you don’t,” Gale admits truthfully. “But I won’t fight your judgement. You’re her Mom, you know best.”

Madge looks back at him sharply. “You have a legal right of custody for her, though.”

Understanding dawns on him.

“You think I’d take you to court?” Gale asks angrily. When Madge flinches he forces himself to calm down. He tries to put himself in her position: a very well-off government employ who undoubtedly had friends in the legal system.

“Madge,” Gale tries again in a kinder voice. “I would never, ever take Lana away from you, I swear.”

Madge remains tense for a moment before slumping.

“I know,” she whispers. “It’s just- she’s all I have. If anything happened to her I…”

“You will always be her Mother,” Gale promises her. “All I want is to love her.”

Madge purses her lips before nodding.

“Alright,” she says finally. “You can come over to dinner tonight and properly introduce yourself.”

Before Gale can thank her, or do something stupid like reach out for an embrace, she holds up a hand.

“I just want to be clear: you can be a part of Lana’s life because you’re her Father. But I myself want nothing to do with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, progress.


	39. Seam Sorrows

 

Gale sits on the edge of their low bed heavily, the aged frame dipping with a protesting creak.

For a moment he does nothing, just lets his head hang as he hears Madge titer about in the adjacent bathroom.

Hearing her sneeze through the thin walls gets him to sit up straighter and reach for the picture frame on his bedside table.

Reaching for it, he caresses Madge’s photographed face with a lonely finger. The frame was built to hold two pictures, and Madge had insisted he place his photo beside her. Gale had refused. The frame had been a wedding gift from the mayor, and Gale knew he could never afford such a nice one, and would rather it be filled with pictures of her than him. He had told her they’d put their wedding picture, which technically was a photo of him.

She had huffed but ultimately agreed. Unfortunately, the day they went to marry, the Justice Building had run out of the fancy paper they printed photos on. Now they were left in a long line of backorders before they could get it.

He wondered if their marriage would even last till they got the only pictorial proof of their love.

He hears the water run in the rusted pipes above his head before spurting out of the small sink in the bathroom. Setting the frame back in its place, Gale slides under the covers and waits for his wife.

She takes her sweet time, but eventually, she leaves the bathroom and enters the bedroom.

“Water is so cold,” she murmurs as she takes her spot next to him. Gale swallows the angry lump in his throat. She should have known the Seam didn’t have heated water before agreeing to marry him.

“Sorry,” he says tightly, turning on his side so his back is to her. He clenches the sheets with one fist tightly as he wonders just how much more fight was left in Madge before she decided she just wasn’t made to live in the Seam.

“It’s not your fault,” Madge sighs. He hears her rubbing her hands to warm them. He should turn around and warm them himself, but he’s afraid if he sees the discontent on her face he’ll start crying.

“Goodnight, Madge,” Gale whispers, wondering if she’ll reach for him.

“Goodnight, Gale.”

She never once touches him during the night.

* * *

 

The first two months of their marriage had been great. No- fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing. The happiest times of his life.

It didn’t even bother him, going down into the mines, because he knew he’d come up to her. And when he got to her, it was as if the exhaustion of the day just blew away like coal dust. It was just him, and it was just her, and Gale was fairly certain he saw his wife naked more times than clothed.

It wasn’t a honeymoon. It was a honeyworld, because everything was sweet and just right.

But around half way of their third month as Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne, things began to change.

He had no idea what he had done, but Madge began to withdraw from him. When he returned home in the evenings he was no longer greeted with an eager kiss, but a half-hearted hello.

Her eyes wouldn’t meet his as she toyed with the small helpings on her plate. And at night, when they lay together, every button on her nightgown would be in place as she gave him a new excuse every night.

“I’m tired.” “My head hurts.” “My back hurts.” “I’m not in the mood.”

He had figured that she was overloaded. After all, things always were very intense between them. It made sense if she needed a break. But that break had extended from physical intimacy to emotional connectivity as well.

Then a new thought his him. Maybe she was ill. Malnourished. The idea terrified him beyond words and he vowed to correct his mistakes when it came to providing for his wife.

He had worked relentlessly to increase the portions of her meal, from setting out into the woods at 3 am every morning and returning once more at night-  but it didn’t matter what he stuffed her with, Madge grew more and more reclusive.

Finally, Gale was forced to confront his greatest fear.

Madge had regret marrying him.

 

* * *

 

Something with the motors that ran the elevator shafts went wrong, so they were all grudgingly sent home early.

Gale decides to detour to the meadow and grab a fist full of wildflowers for Madge.

He’s desperate, he knows, but he doesn’t want to let her go without a fight. And if she  _ has  _ to leave, he wants her to be able to look back and know that he loved her.

Loves her.

His levels of anxiety are embarrassingly high for a man returning to his married home, but Gale keeps telling himself that if he puts in the effort, he  _ can _ save his marriage.

His plans of wooing Madge or more or less shot dead when he opens the door.

She’s sitting on their ratty sofa, crying softly into her hands.

The flowers fall from his hands as he takes in her shaking shoulders. So this was how Madge spent the hours waiting for him to return.

“Madge,” Gale croaks as he rushes to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Gale!” Madge jumps at the sound of his voice and looks shocked to see him. “You’re- you’re early!”

Gale just nods, waiting for her to explain why she was crying.

“Sit down,” Madge gestures to the spot next to her with a shaky smile.

Oh uh. They always told you to sit down before delivering bad news. That’s what his father’s mine captain had done.

Heart like an icicle in his chest, Gale sits by her stiffly.

“I have something to tell you,” Madge says as she wipes at her face. “But…”

“But?” Gale prompts, unable to take this tension anymore. Just break his heart already.

“I don’t know how you’ll react,” Madge admits quietly, not meeting his eyes. “I...I hope you won’t get mad.”

It’s as if a curtain has been drawn from his eyes. He could see it all so clearly now.

“I’m not mad,” Gale says in a tight voice, standing up and drawing away from her.  She had married him, regretted it, and was now leaving him to be with whichever man she had slept with.

“You know?” Madge breathes.

Gale’s entire body is trembling as he nods. It takes all that’s in him not to smash everything around him.

“Why won’t you look at me then?” Madge says in a small voice, sounding as if she was about to cry again.

“Look at you?” Gale explodes as he whirls around to glare at her accusingly. “Why would I want to look at the woman who I gave  _ everything _ , and decides to leave me with  _ this. _ ”

“Gale, please,” Madge pleads, standing up as her tears resume falling. “I know this wasn’t planned, but I, I thought-”

“Yeah!” Gale interrupts angrily. “You  _ thought!  _ Well, guess what Madge? I thought a lot things too!”

Through his haze of anger, he notices that Madge looks unreasonably heartbroken. It’s not like  _ he  _ was the one having an affair.

“So what?” Madge cries. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just leave,” Gale snarls. He didn’t even know why she was still here.

Madge’s jaw dropped. “W-what do you mean, leave?”

“As if you don’t know,” Gale snaps, frustrated at how stupid she thought he was. Did she really think he’d try to keep her if here wasn’t where she wanted to be? “Just...leave.”

Gale is totally unprepared when Madge takes off her shoe and chucks it straight at his head.

Cursing, he doubles down to clutch his throbbing forehead.

“You’re a monster!” Madge screams angrily. “And when this baby is born, I’ll tell it how evil its father was!”

Wait.

What?

“Madge-” Gale can’t even get his sentence out because Madge runs past him and into their bedroom, wooden door slamming loudly behind her.

Oh shit. He had  _ really _ fucked this one up.

“Madge!” Gale calls as he pounds the locked door. “This is a huge misunderstanding, I thought that you-”

“Shut up!” Madge yells at him from inside their room. He can make out sounds of the drawers being open and closed angrily. “I don’t even want to  _ speak  _ with you!”

With a sigh, Gale knew what he had to do. Taking a step back, Gale kicks down their door.

Sitting in the middle of the floor with a half-packed duffle bag, Madge looks shocked before she resumes hastily stuffing her things away.

Gale rushes over and snatches the bag from her, tossing it to the corner of the room. He narrowly misses the hand that had tried to slap him and pulls a struggling Madge rather difficulty into his embrace.

“Let me go!” Madge snarls, going as far as biting him in an attempt to break free. “Let me go, you- you jerk!”

“No,” Gale says simply, not slackening his grip no matter what she did. “Not until you listen to what I have to say.”

“Fine!” Madge agrees angrily, body stiff as she momentarily stills. “It’s the last time I will, anyway.”

Gale sighs and rests his cheek on her blonde head.

“I thought you had regret marrying me,” Gale confesses in a whisper. “I...thought you were gonna run off with a richer guy. I had  _ no _ idea you were pregnant.”

Oh, God. Saying the word was what made it sink in. No wonder the poor thing had been so tired lately. In her tummy was their baby.

Madge brings her heel down on his toe savagely and the shock of the attack is what makes him let go of her with a yelp.

“I cannot believe you would think so lowly of me!” Madge fumes as Gale hopped up and down, clenching his crushed toe. “I would rather die than commit adultery!”

“I know,” Gale practically whines. “I was stupid, ok? Stupid, insecure, and afraid.”

“I’m ashamed by your filthy thoughts,” Madge lets him know clearly. But then her face softens. “And disappointed. Gale, how could you ever doubt how much I love you? I gave up everything to be with you.”

Gale hangs his head shamefully.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I think that guilt was a big reason in why I thought you were unhappy.”

He waits for her to storm out angrily, but she takes him by surprise when she takes his hand in hers.

“Look at me, Gale,” she murmurs softly. Unable to do anything but obey, he does. Her eyes are soft.

“I will forgive you if you stop doubting my decision,” Madge says firmly. “I’m sure I’ll be unhappy in the future, but it will never be because I married you. I could never,  _ ever  _ regret that.”

Gale smiles at her wetly. “Deal.”

Madge returns the smile before tugging him closer.

“Mrs. Everdeen gave me a tea that’s really made me feel a lot better,” she tells him coyly.

“Yeah?” he was liking where this was going…

“Yeah,” Madge confirms, pulling him in for a kiss.

 

* * *

 

After, when she’s lying on his chest and he’s playing with her hair does he tell her his actual reaction.

“I am so happy,” he sighs contently. “This is all I’ve ever wanted...Thank you, Madge.”

Madge lifts her head to stare at him, a teasing smile on her gorgeous features.

“Now  _ that’s _ what I wanted to hear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. I had to write this fic bc that pic is *exactly* how I envision an older Madge, and I needed you all to see lol.


	40. Madgerella

Sometimes, after an especially difficult day, Madge would stay up, gazing forlornly out of her window. She’d keep watching until she caught of a glimpse of a shooting star, and then, she’d wish the same thing as always:

That her father had not married Alma Coin.

Whoever threw down those stars seemed to not care much about Madge’s silent pleas.

 

* * *

 

 

She had been nine when her mother had died. 10 when her father had remarried. 14 when he had died. At 18, she couldn’t definitively say why she was born. It _couldn’t_ be to live as a practical slave for her stepfamily.

And yet here she was.

Coin was a shrewd, icy woman who loved only her namesake: gold coins. Her three daughters, Glimmer, Glitter, and Glisten shared their mother's greed, but also had a shared trait of sloth, gluttony, and a desperate, desperate desire for a handsome husband.

In fact, that was their exact topic of gossip as Madge washed the windows of Glimmer’s room.

“Oh, oh, what about the butcher’s son?” Glitter giggles unabashedly. “His eyes are _so_ dreamy!”

Madge bites back a scoff as she rolls her eyes. She believed in living as kindly as possible, but it was difficult to practice such morals around her stepsisters, which is why Madge could with a very clear conscience describe all three of them as horrendously hideous, inside and out. They’d have better luck marrying a toad.

“Forget the butcher’s lowly son,” Glimmer sniffs imperiously as Madge bends down to dip the cleaning rag in a bucket of sudsy water. “ _I’d_ settle for nothing less than a prince.”

Glisten falls back onto Glimmer’s large bed and sighs dreamily. “I’d do _anything_ to be a princess.”

_I’d do anything to not listen to this conversation._

“You know,” Glitter begins slyly. “There’s a rumor our very own crown prince has had his heartbroken after his supposed sweetheart ran off with a baker!”Madge could only imagine how brutish and unsightly their prince must be to lose to a baker of all people. She continues scrubbing the windows.

“What a stupid whore,” Glisten shrills angrily. “I’d be on my knees every night for his highness.”

_Please, God...if you’re out there, kill me now._

Glimmer suddenly snaps her fingers. “Maybe that’s it!”

Madge doesn’t need to turn around to know her two stepsisters have a confused expression on their faces. They weren’t the sharpest.

“What is?” Glitter asks eagerly.

“Who better to tend to my dear prince’s bruised heart than me!” Glimmer exclaims excitedly. “There’s no one better fit for the job!”

Madge begins the countdown in her head. Glisten is the first to catch on.

“And why is it _you_ that would nurse his highness?” Glisten asks angrily. “It should be me!”

Glitter finally comes aboard.

“Forget you!” Glitter shrieks. “Of the three of us, _I’m_ most fit for being a princess!”

Madge tries to block out their nonsense as best as she can as she opens the windows to clean their outside panes as well. At least there was a nice breeze…

She’s still cleaning when she hears the distinct sound of horse hooves.

Looking down, she’s surprised to find a young lad riding towards the manor. She’s still watching him when he dismounts and hurries up the steps to the main door. He hasn’t even knocked before it’s swung open.

Leaning out as much as she can, Madge strains to hear what the boy says to Coin, but unfortunately, she can’t make much out.

Madge is left still pondering the mysterious visitor when Coin suddenly calls her three daughters downstairs. They’re still arguing when they leave the room, leaving Madge to sigh in relief. She would have never wished for siblings when she was younger if she knew it would be like _this._

She’s finished cleaning the three windows in Glimmer’s room and is going across the hall to clean Glitter’s, when Coin’s cold voice calls out.

“Ratty. Come down immediately.”

Rolling her eyes, Madge sets down the pail. “Coming, stepmother.”

Madge’s full name was Margaret Undersee. Madge had been the nickname lovingly given to her by her late father. After his death, her stepsisters declared it too ‘bland’, and had derived rat from ret, which ended with her new nickname of ‘ratty’.

Sometimes she wondered just what she had _done_ to them to make them hate her so. She still didn’t have an answer.

Entering the parlor where the four of them were seated, Madge immediately goes on her guard when she sees four pinched, sour expressions. That never signified things ending well for her.

“I deign to tell you this only because I know you cannot keep that filthy nose of yours out of anything,” Coin tells her tightly. “And I want to make it clear now: under _no_ circumstances will you be attending.”

“Stepmother, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to,” Madge replies honestly, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She had been standing since 8 in the morning, and it was approaching noon.

Coin holds up a cream-colored envelope. “This is an invitation to a royal ball. It invites young ladies in particular, as the king and queen will be looking for a suitable candidate for the crown prince’s wife.”

Madge knew something was wrong. The three G’s should be ecstatic at this news, and yet they sat there looking as if they were at a funeral.

“I see,” Madge says, choosing her next words clearly. “May I ask when the ball is? So I know how much time I have to prepare their dresses.”

Coin’s features twist uglily. “They won’t be attending.”

Before Madge can ask why, Glisten jumps up and points at Madge accusingly.

“You’re hideous and a maid!” she shouts as tears of fury roll down her bright red face. “I see no reason why you would be invited just because of your last name!”

It all clicked. While Coin’s last name had become Coin-Undersee after her marriage to her father, her stepsisters had retained their paternal surname. As the invitation went out only to the members of the Undersee household, only she and Coin were legally allowed to attend.

“Glisten!” Coin hisses furiously, fist clenching around the invitation. “Control yourself!”

Madge bit back a smirk. No doubt Coin was angry with her daughter for inadvertently giving Madge this piece of information.

“Do not worry, stepmother,” Madge assures the older woman. “I have no interest in attending this ball. If anything, I’d prefer some new sheet music as you promised…”

Coin eyes her critically.

“If you prove to me you can continue your responsibilities without any delusion of attending this blasted ball interfering with your work, I will get you your sheet music,” Coin tells her tightly.

Madge nods. “If you’ll excuse me then.”

 

* * *

 

The more she thought about it, though, the more she realized she _should_ go to the ball.

She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing away at the floors as she contemplated this.

Unlike her stepsisters, she had zero interest in getting married off to a stranger, but perhaps this ball could offer her something similar in terms of escape.

A job.

She could read and write, which, while a rare quality in women, wasn’t a skill that was needed in high demand as most men were literate. Her only specialized talent was the piano, which, ironically enough, was thanks to Coin. The welts on Madge’s fingers from when Coin would strike them with a wooden spoon after she played a wrong note was what constructed her into the efficient player that she was today.

The royal palace was the only place Madge could think of and travel to that could afford hiring such personnel, and more importantly, were probably in _need_ of a pianist. After all, you can’t have balls without music. If she could just get into the ball, she was sure she could find the person in charge of such dealings and finally secure a job where Coin could not send a hitman to forcibly bring her back.

Her strategizing is interrupted by the sound of heels on marble. Looking up, she finds Glimmers sneering down at her. Not breaking eye contact, her stepsister dumps a cup of tea on the recently cleaned floor.

_I’m going to that ball if it’s the last thing I do._

 

* * *

 

Buying a dress was out of question. Not only did she not have any money of her own, but Coin was sure to be keeping tabs with the nearby merchants.

That left the only option of stealing one from her sisters. That wouldn’t be too hard of a task since they had more dresses than days in a year, but the problem came down to sizing.

Glimmer’s build was probably closest to Madge’s, but she would still need to do alterations, and needlework had never been her finest subject. That had been arithmetics.

Regardless, there was no other way, and Madge refused to live under such degrading circumstances. She was taking control of her life, and that was final.

So begins phase 1 of her plan: finding a dress.

It’s difficult staying awake till the rest of them are asleep since she always wakes up first and has long and physically trying days, but Madge manages to make it through with only nodding off a few times.

Once she’s sure they’re all asleep, she tiptoes down to Glimmer’s room.

Her stepsister is snoring away when Madge creaks open her door. Taking a deep and shaky breath, Madge slowly moves over to the large wardrobe, one hand covering the small flame of the candle she had brought to see.

The hinges of the wardrobe squeak loudly when she opens the wooden doors, and for one terrible moment, Madge stands stiffly as she waits for Glimmer to react.

She continues to snore.

Breathing a tiny sigh of relief, Madge begins to root through Glimmer’s many dresses. She’s nearly given up on finding something decent when her fingers still at the feel of the cool texture of silk.

Pulling the dress out, Madge takes in its rich shade of red, and the golden flowers stitched onto its front and sides. She remembers Glimmer wearing this two winters ago; Coin had scolded her, saying to red made her complexion look poor.

Madge didn’t care how it’d contrast with her complexion. All she cared about was the quiet power the dress gave off. This was a dress to be worn by women that were unafraid. That got what they wanted. That weren’t walked all over.

Madge had found her dress.

 

* * *

 

As the ball drew closer, her stepfamily’s treatment towards her grew viler. If their tactic was to break her spirit to the point where she simply didn’t have the heart to go out to the ball, it was backfiring terribly. It was only affirming that she shouldn’t spend another minute in the vicinity of these heartless villains.

Coin also remained suspicious of her. Several times she had barged into Madge’s room in the middle of the night, most probably in the hopes of finding her altering a dress. Madge wasn’t stupid. She hid the dress at the bottom of the laundry pile and hurriedly sewed behind the large willow tree where the water pump was located. It was slow paced and tedious, but the dress was coming along.

There remained the issue of shoes. Madge owned not a single pair of heels, and all of her stepsisters had larger feet than her. Although it embarassed her, she would have to go in her working flats. She tried to console herself with the fact that her dress would be long enough that no one would even see her pitiful shoes.

When she wasn’t cooking, cleaning, playing the piano, or altering her dress, Madge practiced her pitch.

_Hello, I’m Margaret Undersee. I’m an expert pianist with years of experience. I believe I’d be a valuable asset to crown’s musical ensemble. Would you like to sample a piece?_

 

* * *

 

 

She needed time to get ready for the ball, and she couldn’t well do that with Coin barging in on her every other minute.

That’s why, as she prepares her stepfamily’s evening tea, she slips a teaspoon of the herbal mixture the village woman had given them in cases of a cold. It came with the convenient property of sending the user in a very deep sleep.

“Ratty,” Coin says amicably as she sips the prepared tea, in a good mood for the first time since she received the invitation. “Play a piece on the piano, won’t you?”

Glisten was uninterested. “I’m going to bed,” she announces with a yawn.

“Me too,” Glimmer adds in a bitter tone. It seemed today’s date was not lost on her.

In the end, Madge plays for Coin and Glitter, though Glitter quickly dozes off. After about an hour, Coin finally stands.

“I’ll be retiring now,” she says smugly, though her eyes are clouded with sleep. “Sleep well, ratty.”

“Sleep well, stepmother,” Madge echoes, unable to stop her grin as she watches her retreating back.

She ends up dragging a nearly comatose Glitter to her bed and by the time she’s done, everyone has already fallen asleep.

_Perfect._

Scampering up into the attic with a gleeful giggle, Madge removes a loose floorboard and pulls out her finished dress. She takes only a moment to admire it before she shrugs off her threadbare dress and shrugs on the silk one.

It’s difficult lacing herself up, but after much struggle, she’s fit in.

She’s strangely nervous as she turns around to face her cracked mirror. It’ll be her first time seeing herself in such a nice dress in years.

In the mirror, a stranger stared back at her.

Somewhere along the years, Madge had grown up. She had breasts that looked like they wanted to spill out. Her hips had grown out, no longer giving her the slender build of a girl, but the curves of a woman.

Pulling out her night table’s drawer, she takes out her only valuable possession: her aunt’s pin.

Gathering half of her hair back, Madge uses the pin to hold it back. The rest of her hair surrounds her face in waves.

She doesn’t have any rogue or powder, or the paints women used to color their eyelids, but Madge wonders if anyone would consider her beautiful.

She quickly shakes her head. It didn’t matter what her outward appearance was. She was going to the ball to get a job, and she wouldn’t return without one. In fact, if all went well, she wouldn’t return at all.

 

* * *

 

 

Madge was exhausted. While the 10-mile trek to the palace had been difficult enough, since she had arrived, she had been asked to dance by more men than she could count.

The most discouraging part? Not a single one of them was interested in discussing employment with her, only dancing.

When she finished dancing with a gentleman twice her age who would _not_ stop discussing how large his estate was and if Madge would like to visit, she had had enough.

“Pardon me,” Madge excused herself with a curtsy as another man came up no doubt to ask her to dance. “I must use the powder room.”

He nods eagerly. “I shall be waiting for you, madame.”

Her smile was more of a wince, but she nodded anyway. There were plenty of women that were not dancing, and Madge could not understand why _she_ kept being asked.

Desperate for an escape from the stuffy ballroom, Madge makes her escape to the large gardens outside, taking a much-needed seat on the edge of a very beautiful fountain.  

For a while, she simply sat there, taking in the various flowers that surrounded her. If she was able to get that job, she’d love to visit this garden again.

“Horatio, no!”

The distressed cry of a young child startles Madge, and she looks over to see a finely dressed boy chasing something.

That ‘something’ becomes clear when it hops in a patch of moonlight right in front of Madge.

Leaning down, she snatches the frog up before it can hop away, holding the slimy amphibian tight in her hands so that it could not escape.

“Oh thank God!” the boy exclaims, coming to a sudden halt in front of her. “You caught him!”

“I did,” Madge says amusedly. “Would you like him back…?”

The boy nods quickly. “Yes please!”

“Alright,” Madge chuckles, transferring the frog back to its owner. “Here you go.”

The boy quickly stuffs the frog into his coat’s pocket, and for a moment both he and Madge wait to see if Horatio will try to run away again. It seems the frog is content to be in his owner’s pocket at the moment.

“Thank you,” the boy sighs as Madge washes her hands in the fountain water behind her. “This is my third frog. I don’t think Gale would have gotten me another, and he’s the only one who can catch them.”

Not knowing who Gale was, Madge just nods and smiles. “Not a problem. Though I have to say, that’s an interesting choice of pet.”

The boy looks at her like she’s daft.

“He’s not a pet,” he tells her slowly as if he’s the adult, and she the child. “He’s an ongoing social experiment.”

Madge isn’t able to contain her shock. “What’s the experiment?”

The boy grins widely. “If frogs can be taught to talk.”

Madge smiles widely to keep from laughing.

“Well, I hope your experiment yields successful results,” Madge tells him encouragingly. “Only a lad as bright as you could achieve that.”

The boy’s smile grows shy.

“Would you like to dance?” he offers while looking at his shoes. “As a thank you.”

Honestly, this was the first dance offer of the evening that Madge _wanted_ to accept.

“I would be honored,” she says as she stands. “But you’ll need to wash your hands first.”

The boy giggles but diligently dips his hands in the fountain. His hand is still wet when he holds hers and leads her back into the ballroom.

Dancing with him is a bit awkward, especially considering his eyes are level with her bosom, but he’s a sweet boy that makes her laugh with his scientific ‘research’.

“You are certainly an ambitious one,” she tells him after he tells her about his search of making a machine that can make men fly. “May I have your name?”

He looks at her strangely. “It’s Vick.”

Madge falters in her step. Mouth suddenly dry, she asks, “Vick...as in Prince Victor Hawthorne?”

Vick nods, still looking perturbed. “I thought everyone knew me.”

Looking around, Madge realizes that they’ve moved to the part of the ballroom that she had nowhere been near to. Just meters away sat the king and queen, and they were currently watching her.

The song ends, and Madge is about to pick up her skirts and run, when her shoulder is tapped.

Turning around, she finds herself staring into an older and taller Vick.

“Hello,” he greets her cheekily. “May I have this dance?”

“Prince Robert,” Madge squeaks quickly, falling into a deep curtsey. “I’d be honored.”

“Call me Rory,” he says, holding out her hand. Pushing down her dread, she takes it. She was absolutely a nobody, and being in the presence of the royal family made her anxious beyond words. She knew it was irrational, but she felt as if any moment now they’d see who she really is and kick her out.

“Rory,” Madge repeats in a quiet voice, beginning to dance with the second prince.

“So how’d you get stuck with a goober like Vick?” Rory asks as they dance to the formal music.

Madge blinks at his informal tone. “I- his frog. I helped catch it?”

Rory seems seriously impressed before he rolls his eyes.

“Did no one tell the idiot that it’s girls who are off kissing frogs, not prince’s,” Rory jokes, finding himself very funny.

Madge is still trying to figure out how to respond to that when she feels a very impatient tap on her shoulder.

Glancing behind her, Madge nearly tumbles into Rory as the most handsome man she’s ever seen towered above her, glaring menacingly.

“Aw, hell, Gale,” Rory complains petulantly. “Get your own girl!”

Madge suddenly realizes who ‘Gale’ is. More specifically, the crown prince of Panem, his royal highness, Galeson Hawthorne.

_Heaven help me…_

Ignoring his brother, Gale continues to glare at her.

“May I have this dance,” he says in more of a command than a question. Madge doesn’t even nod, just steps away from Rory and taking his proffered hand. Immediately he steers them away from his two brothers.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, he begins.

“I don’t care what your parents instructed you to do, but you are too old for either of my brothers,” Gale lets her know angrily, his grip on her hand and hip tight. “So if I see you around either of them again-”

“Horatio!” Madge blurts. The anger from his face is replaced with shock. “I was only dancing with Vick- I mean, Prince Victor because I helped him with his frog. I don’t know why Prince Ror- _Robert_ asked me, but I thought it would be impolite to decline.”

Gale’s eyes narrow in suspicion but his grip thankfully slackens.

“Come with me,” he says finally, all but dragging her back outside. As she follows his large frame, she can’t help but wonder just how on earth a woman could decline his affections when he looked like _this._

Madge has no idea where he’s taking her until they reach some sort of balcony that overlooks yet another garden below them.

“I figured if you disregarded decorum enough to catch a frog, you’d understand wanting to get out of that place for a few minutes,” Gale answers her unsaid question. “The only way I could get out was with a partner.”

Madge feels a pang of sympathy for the prince. If she were in his place, she too wouldh have been highly uncomfortable with the entire ordeal.

“I understand,” Madge tells him. “Take your time.”

Walking over to the railing of the balcony, Madge rests her forearms against the concrete as she took in the second garden. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the prince also move to the railing, but further down from her.

“Uh, just so we’re clear,” Madge looks up to see the prince eyeing her warily. “I don’t want to marry you.”

Judging by his reaction, laughing probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but it escaped her without her permission.

“Don’t worry,” she assures him. “I didn’t come tonight in some attempt to win your heart.”

The prince frowns at her. “Then why are you here?”

Madge can’t help but brighten at his question. Here was the chance she had been waiting for! Who better to ask for a job in the palace than the crown prince?

“I am a proficient pianist!” Madge gushes quickly. “I have years of training and I believe I would be an excellent addition to your musical ensemble, should you so like.”

The prince stares at her unbelievingly.

“You...came here for employment?” he asks incredulously.

Madge nods at the same time a large crack of thunder is heard. A moment later it begins to rain softly.

“Let’s go inside,” the prince tells her, offering her his arm. Unable to stop her flush, she takes his arm. So what she wasn’t immune to his charms? She was a woman after all!

By the time they re-enter the ballroom, her face is damp from the drizzle.

“Here,” the prince says as he pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to her.

“Thank you,” Madge says gratefully as she pats dry her face.

“What is your name?” the prince asks her curiously.

Madge lowers the handkerchief. “I’m Margaret-”

Her words die in her mouth as she meets the gaze of someone staring intently at her over the prince’s wide shoulders.

It’s Mrs. Harrison. One of their neighbors, and a close personal friend of Coin’s.

Tears of panic immediately well in her eyes. Mrs. Harrison would undoubtedly tell Coin she had seen Madge here tonight.

“Margaret?” the prince says worriedly. “Are you alright?”

Her gaze snaps back to his frantically. Perhaps if she made it home quick enough, she could act as if Mrs. Harrison was spinning fibs.

“I-I’m sorry,” Madge croaks, tears spilling as she wonders just who else had seen her tonight. “I must go.”

Without another word, she dashes away from the prince, weaving through the guests and ignoring his calls for her to stop.

 

* * *

 

She’s muddy, rained on, cold, and more exhausted than she’s ever felt when she finally slips into the manor.

There’s still an hour to dawn, and as long as she can get rid of the dress she can-

“Well well well.”

Madge freezes. Then shuts her eyes in defeat.

“I’m going to make you wish you were never born,” Coin tells her a matter of factly.

_I already do._

 

* * *

 

 

The prince’s handkerchief is her only reminder that she once had happy memories.

She long ago lost track of time. She doesn’t even know if it’s night or day anymore. All she can think of is the hunger and thirst.

She wonders why Coin just didn’t get this all over with and kill her.

But then, that’s exactly what she was doing. Just slowly.

Madge curls in on herself as a fierce hunger pain tears through her, clutching the handkerchief with what little strength she has. If her estimates were correct, Coin had given her a slice of bread three days ago. Half a glass of water last night.

When the pain finally passes, not completely, but enough so she can think halfway straight, she traces the embroidered _G._

As pathetic as it was, she was glad she was able to see the prince before she died. There was something about his face, particularly his eyes, that brought a great relief to Madge. Perhaps it was in knowing that fairytales _did_ exist. Not for her, of course, but some other lucky girl.

Madge coughs pitifully as her throat closes with dryness. She’s nearly fallen into another troubled slumber when the door to the dungeon is swung open.

“Get up,” Coin barks. “Wash up and wear a bonnet. When you serve the tea, if you look at him, I swear to God, I’ll feed you to wild dogs.”

Madge tries to stand up, but she’s hit with a bout of dizziness so strong she falls right back down.

“Oh, how pathetic!” Coin spits before disappearing back upstairs. A few minutes later, she returns with a cup of water and a dry slice of bread. Madge starts crying at the sight of it.

“Hurry up,” Coin snaps. “Your things are in the kitchen.”

Alternating between a bite of bread and a sip of water, Madge is done eating in under a minute. She didn’t feel particularly better, but she was able to actually stand up and walk now.

Crawling up the stairs, Madge blinks at the sudden light once she’s back in the main part of the manor. So it was day, then.

“How disgusting,” Glimmer sneers as she hurries past her, dressed impeccably. Glitter and Glisten are right on her heels. Ignoring them, Madge continues to crawl to the kitchen, where indeed she finds a clean dress and bonnet.

Ignoring that, Madge stuffs herself with a bowl of stew and then several glasses of water. Feeling her strength returning to her, Madge ties the bonnet on and then grabs a large knife.

Without looking back, Madge opens the kitchen door and runs out, uncaring that she was shoeless and penniless. She’d rather be destitute than spend another second in that accursed house.

She doesn’t really have any other plan besides sprinting away as fast as she can, but even this is quickly dashed when she runs to the front of the house.

Several imperial guards stare at her.

“Where did you come from?” one of them asks her gruffly.

Madge tries to answer, but after days of disuse, she can’t produce a single sound.

“Hey, she’s got a knife!” another one points out. It all goes to hell from there.

“Let me go!” Madge is finally able to scream hoarsely when two of the guards grab her and begin to carry her away. “Don’t touch me!”

They ignore her, and when another one comes over to grab her, she begins to cry loudly.

“Don’t touch me!” Madge screams madly, tears rushing down her grimey face. Was her life truly just one prison to the next?

“Hey!” a loud voice booms out. The guards immediately halt in what they’re doing. “Who gave you the order to manhandle that lady?”

“She’s armed, my lord,” one of the guards answer. “It’s standard protocol.”

“She’s the village bint,” Madge hears Coin quickly say. “You’d be doing us a favor by arresting her.”

Suddenly, Madge has had enough.

“No!” she protests loudly, staring at Coin without fear. “This woman has stolen my youth, my fortune, my happiness, and my future. Arrest this thief if anyone!”

Coin stares back at her cooly.

“Margaret?”

Madge blinks several times before looking over at who stood next to Coin.

“Prince Galeson,” Madge whispers, an unknown feeling in her chest.

“Release her immediately,” he tells the guards as he strides over to her. They do as he says and Madge falls flat on her face.

She’s on the ground for only a second before she’s pulled into a strong pair of arms.

“Margaret, what happened to you?” the prince cries out as he takes in her features.

For the first time since her father had died, Madge did not feel alone.

 

* * *

 

 

It was surreal to see Coin being led away in chains. Glimmer, Glitter, and Glisten’s wails from inside the house could be clearly heard from the lawn.

“She’ll rot in prison,” the prince vows beside her. “That witch!”

Madge turns to stare at his profile. It takes him a moment, but he stops seething to look at her.

“Thank you,” Madge says simply. There were no other words that could articulate her gratitude. “I owe you my life.”

The prince averts his eyes shyly.

“Nonsense,” he mumbles. “I...am simply carrying out my duties.”

Madge simply nods, not wanting to disagree with him.

“I’ll exile your stepsisters,” he continues, still not looking at her. “You can decide if they can take any money with them.”

Madge considers this. While she hated the three, she didn’t necessarily want them to die of starvation. She was, after all, not Coin.

“I’ll give them something,” Madge shrugs, still mostly dazed from what had happened.

She was now the rightful owner of the Undersee Manor and fortune. She was no longer a servant, but a noblewoman once more.

A sudden question bubbles in her mind.

“Prince Galeson, why were you here today?” Madge asks earnestly.

The prince rubs the back of his neck.

“Well…” he trails off, staring resolutely in the distance. “I was looking for you.”

Madge’s mouth falls open at his revelation.

“But why?” she gasps, still gaping at him.

He finally turns to look at her, a small smile on his face.

“We were in the middle of a job interview, last I check,” he tells her. “I still need to assess your skills.”

A smile begins to stretch across her face.

“I did not know I would audition for the prince himself,” Madge admits. “I will be rather nervous when I play. What will you do if you find me unsatisfactory?”

“I have a feeling,” he says with a grin. “That you will find yourself in that palace regardless.”

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER

 

(EXCEPT HORTAIO. RIP)

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wanted to do a poor Madge, rich Gale, and this is the result.


	41. Barbarossa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content rating: M
> 
> Content warning: mild violence

 

_ 40 km outside of Moscow, _

_ November, 1942. _

 

Margosha is shoved to her knees violently. The December snow seeps quickly into her wool stockings. 

“Let this be an example!” one of the Nazis that stand before her shouts out into the frigid air. After months of living under their rule, Margosha still winces when she hears their guttural German tongues speak Russian. “Any and all Soviet foolish enough to try and tamper with the Fuehrer's great plan shall meet the same end.”

No one from her village has attended her execution, but she knows they all watch on from their windows. Her last words are directed towards them.

“When you kill me today, another will replace me tomorrow,” Margosha says in a steady voice, despite how her insides tremble. “And mark my words, our day shall come.”

The Nazi that had spoken glares at her and barks out an order in German. A moment later, she stares down the barrels of three rifles.

Raising his hand, the Nazi calls out one more order in German and the gunmen cock their weapons. Margosha shuts her eyes tiredly.

_ Please God, forgive my sins and let me join the righteous upon my death. _

A gunshot rings out in the still air. And then another.

Margosha opens her eyes in shock and finds two of the three Nazis lying on the snow before her, bleeding to death.

“They’re coming!”

Margosha and the remaining Nazi turn and find another German sprinting towards them, face terrified.

“The Soviets are upon us!”

Without wasting a single moment, Margosha stands and begins running as fast as she can from.

“Our comrades have arrived!” Margosha shouts to her fellow villagers that hid in their homes. “Fear no more, they have come!”

Within moments, her small village transforms into a war zone. Bullets seem to be pouring out of the air as the German and Russian forces clash. The bright rays of dawn leak past the small wooden houses from which grandmothers and children rush out of to help the red army in their quest of liberating them.

But Margosha cannot help her comrades find the cowardly Nazis that hide wherever their bodies can fit. No, her feet that sink and rise from the solid snow run in only one crucial direction.

Reaching the Town Hall, which was really more of a large shack than anything, Margosha nearly cries in relief when she finds its main door unlocked.

Facing near execution for espionage was worth it in Margosha’s mind, because it meant she knew to scour through Town Hall while she had the chance.

During her time of spying, Margosha had found that the Germans had been using their humble Town Hall as a headquarters of sorts, and she knew that if there was one place they would keep their information of utmost importance, it would be here.

Stepping into the Town Hall after nearly a year, Margosha feels strangely relieved to see the Germans have not changed the interior too drastically. In fact, the biggest change would probably be the large desk at the very end. She decides to begin her search there.

Sifting through the documents proves to be frustrating. She cannot read German, and she supposes it would be foolish to hope they would have anything documented in Russian. Undeterred, she keeps looking. Just as she picks up a large book, the door to the Town Hall is slammed open, and a German storms in.

In her shock, she drops the book she was holding. Both she and the German look down at it. Sticking out from the half-opened pages is a map. When Margosha looks back at the German, she can tell by looking at his face she has found what she was looking for. She also takes note that he does not have a gun on his person, but his right fist clenches a knife tightly.

Heart beating so loudly in her ears she can hardly make out the gunshots that continue to ring outside, Margosha considers her chances of making it out with this map alive.

The odds come out to something like 1 in a million. Margosha grabs the map and dashes towards the hallway entrance that will lead her to the side door anyways.

She feels rather than sees the knife fly right by the side of her face, embedding itself deeply into the wooden frame of the doorway to the hall. She’s just made it when the Nazi slams into her.

The force of his momentum sends them both sprawling, and by the time she lands roughly on the floor, he is above her with his hands wrapped tightly around her throat.

“ Hündin,” he snarls as she gasps desperately for air. She’s been around enough Germans to know that means bitch. Still, she does not loosen her grip on the map.

Margosha tries vainly to claw at his hands with her own free one, but it is of no use. His grip is too strong

As black spots begin to cloud her vision, Margosha only wishes she could have passed on that map before dying. The only thought that comforts her as her lungs screams for breath is that her village shall soon be freed, God willing. The map slips from her fingers.

Without warning, the steel grip on her throat is suddenly lifted.

Margosha swallows in as much air as her lungs allow, her body crying with relief. As her vision begins to return, she becomes vaguely aware of someone very violently beating the Nazi that had been trying to strangle her.

With a cough that tugs painfully at her sore throat, Margosha gingerly lifts herself up into a sitting position. By his uniform, it’s clear that her savior is a member of the Red Army, but his face is turned away from her.

“T-thank you…” Margosha croaks quietly, rubbing a hand against the skin of her tender neck.

“You do not have to thank me,” he replies in an even quieter voice. And then he turns to look at her.

A face that she has not seen in over a year stares back at her. A face she has dreamed of on countless frigid and unforgiving nights. A face she never thought she’d see again.

“Galenka!” Margosha cries as tears of joys begin to pour out of her eyes. Without waiting for his reply, she throws herself at him to draw him into her embrace. He does not fall over or drop her, instead, pulling her to him tightly as he slumps against the wall.

“Margosha,” he whispers wetly into her hair, his grip almost crushing around her torso.

“You are alive,” Margosha continues to sob, her one hand reaching under his cap to clutch his soft hair and pull him even closer to her, the other fisting as much of his uniform’s coat as she can. At that moment, she does not care that the world is at war; her heart knows only peace.

“Of course I am,” he tries to chuckle, but it ends up sounding like a breathy cry. “I could never stay away.”

 

* * *

 

“I shall speak to your commander,” mama says angrily. “You are in the village of your birth! Surely he can relieve you of one night of duty?”

“It has been a long day,” Galenka says in a calming voice. “The children are getting ready for bed and so should you. I will be back in the morning before any of you are awake.”

Mama does not look convinced, so he pulls her to him and kisses her cheek.

“We are safe now, mama,” Galenka assures his beautiful mother. “You need not worry anymore.”

“Oh, my son,” mama sighs. “I will always worry for you.”

“You should worry more for Rurik,” Galenka teases, laughing as his brother makes a face at him from where he stands in the kitchen.

Mama rolls her eyes before giving him one more kiss. “Be safe, my fool.”

“Always,” Galenka says before leaving his house. The sun was nearly set and traveling any distance in the Russian winter at night was a trial from God himself. Walking quickly, Galenka has nearly reached his destination, when a familiar face stops him.

“Galenka!” his old friend Tomeslav greets cheerfully. “What are you doing out from home?”

Galenka shifts on his feet uncomfortably. As shameful as it was, he had lied to mama when he said he was needed on the frontlines tonight. Before he can come up with an excuse, Tomeslav’s face lights up.

“You are going to see beautiful Margosha, are you not?” he gushes loudly. “Galenka, you naughty fox!”

“Shut up!” Galenka hisses furiously, nervously looking around to see if anyone had overheard his idiot friend.

“Ah, why the sudden shyness?” Tomeslav asks slyly. “Is it because of what she said to you when you left?”

“I regret ever speaking with you,” Galenka snaps irritably, but not correcting him.

Tomeslav’s eyes widen.

“So what does this mean?” he whispers excitedly. “You return her feelings?”

“Goodnight, Tome,” Galenka tells him as he steps around him.

“The bear of Russia has finally had his heart thawed!” Tomeslav proclaims loudly. Galenka turns around to punch him, but he has already run away.

“Idiot,” Galenka mutters under his breath.

Luckily, he does not face any other obstacles on his short journey. That is, besides his nervousness. By the time he reaches Margosha’s house, he nearly double guesses himself and goes back home.

The only thing that stops him from doing that is the desire to peer into Margosha’s sweet face once more before he leaves.

Taking a deep breath of freezing air, Galenka knocks on her door.

He stands there for nearly a minute before the door is finally opened. It is clear from Margosha’s face that she had not been expecting him.

“Galenka!” she exclaims. “Is everything alright?”

He clears his throat awkwardly. “Yes. May I, eh..come in for a moment?”

“Oh,” is all she says, her large eyes blinking at him. “I, yes, of course, please come in.”

The amount of anxiety he feels is idiotic, especially considering he’s been fighting in the bloodiest war humanity has ever seen. Still, when his fingers brush Margosha’s when he hands her his outerwear, he nearly jumps a meter.

“Please, sit,” Margosha gestures to a circular table by the lit stove.

Galenka nods and takes a seat and watches as she does the same.

“Was there something you needed?” Margosha asks him once they’re both settled.

“The map you gave me,” he begins, noting how her posture suddenly straightened at the word. “I gave it to my commander. We were able to get hold of a translator.”

“And?” Margosha breathes, clenching her hands tightly in her lap and leaning towards him.

Galenka smiles at her. “The Red Army thanks you especially for your service. It was a map of secret German supply routes. This information is invaluable.”

Margosha sinks back into her chair and sighs relievedly.

“Thank God,” she murmurs to herself.

Galenka nods, the nervousness returning to him. “Yes...I thought you should know, especially since you took such a risk to find it.”

Margosha’s hand immediately flies to her neck, and a fiery rage is rekindled in his heart when he sees dark bruises on her fair skin.

“It had to be done,” she whispers faintly.

Galenka clenches his fists and tears his gaze away from her neck.

“Death was not enough for him,” he spits, his teeth grinding harshly against each other as he struggles control his anger. “I should have tortured him. Made him beg to die.”

The red haze of fury disappears at the feel of Margosha’s soft hands on his.

“Galenka please,” Margosha pleads in a soft voice, her eyes staring so deeply into his he felt as if he were floating. “It is over now. There is no need to feel angry. All that matters is that you saved me.”

He tries to respond to that, but his throat is suddenly so dry all he can do is nod.

Margosha removes her hands from him and looks down sadly.

“Besides, hundreds of our comrades die every day,” she says with a small shake of her head. Her golden hair glows in the firelight. “What I did is hardly heroic compared to that.”

“You must not think like that,” he counters immediately. “A river is a collection of water drops. Every act counts.”

“Still,” Margosha argues. “Compared to women like Katniss, what I did was nothing.”

Galenka sighs, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Your mother is sick,” he reminds her. “It is why you were unable to enlist. And perhaps Katniss’s rifle has killed 100 hundred Nazis. The information you provided could wipe out thousands.”

To his shock, a large tear rolls down her smooth skin.

“My mother died just a month after the Germans took over,” Margosha whispers painfully. “I begged them to give her medicine...but they refused.”

“Margosha…” Galenka had no idea Margosha’s mother had passed, and his heart twists terribly at the news.

“Wait,” he says suddenly as he remembers something. “Is your father still at Moscow?”

Margosha nods tearfully. Her father had been in Moscow when the Germans had invaded and had been unable to return since.

“So you’re here all alone?” Galenka asks distraughtly.

Margosha nods once more, looking more miserable than he’s ever seen her.

Before he can reach out and pull her into his arms, Margosha speaks up.

“But it will not be like this for long,” she says confidently. Galenka blinks rapidly as he tries to process her words. Suddenly, it clicks.

“You are getting married?” he nearly shouts, unable to check his reaction.

Margosha gapes at him.

“No!” she suddenly giggles. “I am going to enlist in the army.”

Somehow, this is a worse revelation than her getting married to another man.

“You cannot,” Galenka tells her firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Margosha’s eyes narrow. “Why not?”

Galenka first tries the logical route. “This war is nearly over,” he tells her. “Everyday more and more Germans retreat and we regain more land. It will not be long before every last one of them is dead or gone.”

“Well, then I will be part of this final effort,” Margosha reasons. “It is not like we have a surplus of soldiers.”

Well, she was technically correct. Which is why he goes for his second strategy.

“You help the war effort by staying here,” he says simply.

Margosha raises a slim eyebrow at that. “Really? Do tell me how.”

Galenka meets her gaze directly, no longer feeling any of that nervous energy that clung to him earlier. “It makes me fight harder, knowing there is you to return to.”

If it did not make her look so lovely, the red that spreads across her cheeks would have been comical. Her mouth opens and closes several times but not a word comes out. Finally, she pushes herself out of the chair she sits in.

“I have been rude,” she squeaks. “Let me make you some tea.”

Without waiting for a response from him, she hurries to the stove and sets about making a pot of tea. Galenka enjoys the view of her backside for a moment before getting up and standing right behind her, so close, that her shoulder blades brush the wool that covers his chest.

“Do you remember what you said to me before I left to fight?” Galenka asks her in a low voice.

To his slight surprise, she answers him directly. “Yes.”

“Have your feelings changed?”

A pause, then:

“They would never.”

This brings a large grin to his face. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulls her flush to his front.

“I did not give you a proper answer that time,” he says as he nuzzles the side of her face. “I have one for you now.”

“Oh?” Margosha breathes.

“Yes,” he hums as he dips his head to breathe in the sweet, almost honey-like fragrance of her neck. Her presence alone was intoxicating. Pressing a gentle kiss to one of the bruises that lined her precious skin, Galenka whispers, “I love you Margosha.”

“And this is not a ploy to stop me from enlisting?” Margosha asks him a trembling voice, even though she tilts her head so he can kiss more of her neck.

He gives her one more kiss before resting his chin on top of her head.

“There is no way for me to truly stop you,” he sighs tiredly. “If you truly wish to enlist, then all I can ask is for you to consider the threat a life we can both have once the war is over will face.”

“A life we can both have?” Margosha repeats, twisting her head so she can look up at him. “What does that mean?”

Galenka reaches a hand up to cup her cheek. Her skin is softer than any fur he’s ever felt.

“Why a home like this,” he says as if it's obvious. “A marriage ceremony, and many ill-mannered children.”

“No child of mine will be ill-mannered,” is all she can say before Galenka kisses her. Immediately, she turns around and wraps her arms around his neck so he can deepen the kiss. Unsatisfied, he lifts her up so that he can kiss her with every ounce of his being.

Kissing Margosha feels similar to the first time he jumped out of an airplane. But instead of landing in a frozen field filled with Nazis, all that surrounds him is the purest kind of love. To have her in his arms lets him forget every horror he’s been forced to see, and relieves all the sorrows that have clung to his heart.

“I will not enlist,” Margosha says between their kisses. “But only if you promise to come home as soon as you can.”

“Margosha, there is nothing more I want in this world besides peace and your love,” Galenka tells her, finally setting her down and kissing her forehead, her eyebrows fluttering against his chin. “I will do everything in my power to come back to you.”

Margosha stares at him wordlessly for a few moments, before taking his hand and tugging him away from the stove.

“What?” he asks her, not understanding what she wanted.

Margosha turns around to face him but does not meet his gaze. “I am taking you to my bed.”

Galenka’s mouth falls open at her boldness.

“If what you say is true,” Margosha continues, face beet red. “Then it does matter if you put a child in me tonight, since it will end up there sooner or later.”

“Well,” Galenka croaks, taking a step towards her. “I suppose I cannot argue with such sound logic.”

Margosha finally meets his gaze, raising that eyebrow once more. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

Galenka laughs heartily and sweeps her off her feet.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hi there. I hope my absence can be forgiven because the entirety of my October and most of November was spent reenacting Tove Lo's "Habits" music video. (If you don't get the reference I was--dumped)
> 
> But the good news is that I've moved on a little and will try to write regularly again!! My only concern is beside eerily sharing many physical characteristics of Gale, my ex was 100% my source of inspiration for the character, to the point that some of the things you've read my Gale said/done was something my ex actually did. Hopefully, my own creativity can overcome this....
> 
> Well putting my own personal drama aside I hope you guys enjoyed the fic lol. I'll try and put a Thanksgiving-themed one out tomorrow, but no promises :(
> 
> A technical note: Operation Barbarossa is officially noted to have lasted from June 22, 1941 to December 5, 1941. However, the Battle of Moscow, which ended in January 1942 is said to have been the final strike against Barbarossa sooo I'm just gonna go with those dates.


	42. Winter Wonderland

Madge cleans her shoes off on the welcome mat outside the apartment she shared with Katniss before opening the door.

“I’m home,” she calls out to her friend, who’s sitting on the couch while the tv blared on, trying desperately to finish the sweater she’s knitting for her boyfriend Peeta.

“Hey,” Katniss answers distractedly, eyebrows furrowed as her fingers tried to work the needles and yarn.

“Still having trouble with that?” Madge laughs as she hangs up her coat. Katniss doesn’t respond, so she goes over to try and help her. She stops short when she catches sight of who is lying down on their largest sofa, fast asleep.

“Why is Gale here?” Madge hisses to Katniss as she quickly scurries past the sofa Gale naps on and to the loveseat Katniss occupies.

Katniss looks up from her project briefly. “Oh. He fixed that leaky pipe under the kitchen sink.”

“Ah,” Madge says uncomfortably, trying not to look at his large mass right next to her. “That was...nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Katniss says, distracted by her work once more.

“Do you need any help?” Madge offers. “I know my way around a yarn ball.

Katniss shakes her head fervently. “I want every stitch to be done by me.”

Madge nods but holds back a sigh. As happy as she was for her friend, Madge couldn’t help but be envious of the intense love between Peeta and Katniss. It was something Madge could only dream of experiencing.

Ashamed of thinking so poorly while Katniss sat right beside her, Madge tries to focus her attention on the tv, but she ends up watching Gale more.

It’s the first time she’s ever seen him asleep, she realizes, as she takes in his slumbering face. He was somehow more handsome like this, features softened and body relaxed. It’s when she’s imagining what the scruff on his face would feel like against her skin when she realizes Katniss said something to her?

“Huh?” Madge says, trying to blink away her embarrassment of nearly being caught ogling Gale shamelessly.

“I said I don’t get the appeal,” Katniss repeats, pointing to the tv with her chin. “Ballroom dancing seems so boring.”

Madge looks at the tv and finds an old Disney movie playing. Sure enough, the prince and princess twirl to classical music in a lavish ballroom.

“Really?” Madge says in a quiet voice. “I think that’d be my dream date.”

Katniss looks over at her and frowns disbelievingly. “Seriously.”

Madge nods enthusiastically. Standing up, she wraps her arms around herself as she sways to the music.

“I would be in a beautiful gown,” she describes as her eyes shut to picture the scene in her mind. “He’d come up to me, in a dashing attire of course, and bow and ask for a dance.”

“I’d accept, and he’d pull me into his embrace. Then, just the two of us would dance across the ballroom to the music, all sweeping arms and light feet, and just as the music climaxes, he’d pull me in close, and when the music can’t heighten anymore, he’d dip me down and kiss me…”

“Way to make a guy go bankrupt on the first date, Undersee.”

Madge’s eyes fly open in shock. Swirling around, she finds Gale looking up at her with a raised eyebrow.

_ Oh, God. He wasn’t supposed to hear any of that! _

“I-It’s not what I really want,” Madge squeaks, face flaming. “Just a silly daydream.”

Before he can respond, she turns to Katniss, who’s trying to untangle her yarm.

“I have something to do in my room, see you later,” Madge tells her hurriedly before rushing out of the living room and into her bedroom.

Shutting her door behind her, Madge flings herself onto her bed face first, wishing her blanket would just swallow her whole.

After wallowing for a while, she flips onto her back and stares up at the ceiling dejectedly.

_ It figures Gale would make fun of the fantasy he was in. _

 

* * *

 

Her door is slammed open, startling Madge so bad she drops the book she was reading.

“I did it!” Katniss yells, charging into her room with a blue sweater held up high in her right hand. “I finished the damn sweater.”

“Congratulations,” Madge laughs, picking her book off from her lap and placing it on her nightstand. “Peeta’s gonna love it?”

“You think so?” Katniss asks shyly, all the bravado from just a moment ago completely gone.

“Of course!” Madge assures her friend. “He’d love anything you’d give him.”

Katniss blushes and shrugs her shoulders. Shaking her head, she becomes jubilant once more.

“We need to go out!” she proclaims. “For the past month I have done nothing but knit, I’ve earned this?”

“Go out?” Madge asks warily, glancing at her nightstand clock. It was nearly eight pm...

Katniss nods. “A bunch of us are going to the local park. They have a light show thing set up.”

Madge bites the inside of her cheek. Going outside at night in December wasn’t really what she’d call a good time.

“You go ahead,” she says to Katniss. “I think I’ll just finish my book.”

Katniss narrows her eyes, and for one uncomfortable moment, just stares unnervingly at Madge.

“What?” Madge finally snaps, unable to stay under such a direct gaze.

“Are you depressed?” Katniss blurts out, making Madge’s mouth fall open.

“What- no!” Madge exclaims flusteredly. “Why would you think that?”

Katniss crosses her arms stubbornly. “You never want to go out anymore. When was the last time you hung out with everyone?”

“I’m not depressed,” Madge sighs. “I’ve just been...tired. Things are hectic at work.”

“Well, you can use this as a destresser,” Katniss suggests in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Yes, m’am.”

 

* * *

 

This was why she didn’t like going out anymore.

Katniss had Peeta. Annie had Finnick. Delly had Thom. Johanna had...some weird toxic on/off thing with Gale, but that was still more than what Madge had, which is to say: no one.

For a moment, she took in Gale. It had been two weeks since she had last seen him, but her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him. Why did he have such a strong hold over her? Suddenly looks over at her Madge immediately turns around and quickly goes over to the person closest to her.

“Hi Annie,” Madge greets her friend, still jittery from being caught staring by Gale himself. “How’s the baby?”

Annie rubs her stomach affectionately. “I just can’t wait for him to come,” she sighs happily. “I already love him so much!”

“I can imagine!” Madge says with a large smile she has to force. She’d give  _ anything _ to have a baby. “Just a few more months.”

Finnick reappears by his wife’s side and tucks her into his side.

“Margaret, you need to find a man asap,” Finnick jokes. “My kid needs a playmate!”

“Let me get right on that,” Madge says dryly. As Finnick and Annie laugh, Madge suddenly has the acute sensation that someone is staring at her. But when she turns around, all she sees is Gale saying something to Johanna.

Delly comes over and takes hold of one of Madge’s hands.

“Come on folks!” she cries out. “Those lights won’t twinkle forever.”

Tugged forward by Delly and surrounded by the happiness of her friends, Madge is able to feel a little better. Actually, she felt more than ashamed by her recent behavior. Since when had she become so shallow? Instead of feeling happy for her friends, she was here feeling sorry for herself. It was unacceptable.

So she forces herself to take in the light decorations that hang off the trees around. She has to give it to the Park Authority, they really outdid themselves this year.

They’re all chuckling at a story Thom is woefully sharing about his daily mishaps at work when Madge pauses. Johanna immediately collides into her.

“Watch where you’re going, Goldilocks,” Johanna snaps as she sidesteps her.

“You’re the one who walked into me,” Madge retorts with a raised eyebrow.

The tell-tale gleam of danger appears in Johanna’s eyes as she turns around to look at Madge.

“Tryna pick a fight, huh Goldilocks?” she asks with a grin too gleeful for the question asked.

“Ok,” Gale quickly steps in between them. “Let’s not turn the festival of lights into a festival of fights.”

“I heard music coming from over there,” Madge says, ignoring both of them.

“Let’s go!” Delly squeals excitedly. Everyone follows her as she quickly pulls Thom in the direction Madge had pointed to.

It seems that the park is hosting some sort of concert in a beautiful courtyard. Even better, it’s an orchestra group playing.

Most of the chairs have already filled up, so their group decides to listen in while standing a little ways away.

It’s far too cold for the fountains to be working, but somehow, it fits the scene better. A dancing bear. A horse mid-stride. Blue and white snowflakes glowing amongst the trees. The notes of Tchaikovsky's symphony flowing up and down through the frigid air, giving a sort of intangible warmth to the December night.

Madge glances around and sees the couples have decided to cuddle with their respective partner as they listened to the romantic music. Except Johanna. She’s on her phone. Gale has his hands in his pockets and looks uncomfortable.

That vibe she had been experiencing just a moment ago effectively messed up, Madge looks around and finds just a little ways away, there seems to be a small enclave of trees making up a secluded circle with a little gate leading into it.

Walking through the opening made in the trees for entry, Madge gasps at what she’s found.

It seems to be a courtyard in a courtyard. The trees are covered in the most dazzling lights that blink rapidly, giving the effect of them shimmering. There’s a small bench to the side, but beyond that, it’s just her in this wintery embrace. As she thinks this, it begins to flurry.

Standing in the middle of the small courtyard, Madge begins to turn slowly in place. The shimmer of the lights become the glint of diamonds, the concrete under her is marble, and the flurry is dust off tapestries hundreds of years old. Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers play.

“Madge?”

Madge immediately freezes. When she turns around, Gale is standing under the metal archway awkwardly.

“May I have this dance?”

_ Is this a dream? _

Madge blinks, but when she reopens her eyes, he’s still standing in front of her, hand outstretched patiently, snow collecting on the broad planes of his shoulders.

Silently, she places her hand in his, and Gale pulls her to him. The magic of the moment is dulled a bit by the realization that by standing this close to him, she’s eye level with his collarbone. Still, just the feel of his hand on her hip alone as they sway to the music is more than enough for Madge’s heart to beat thunderously.

This goes on for a few moments until Gale huffs and removes his hands from her.

“This isn’t working,” he says with a frown.

“Oh,” Madge whispers, trying to keep her eyes from welling with tears. Had he really grown bored with her so quickly?

“Just...tell me if this is ok, alright?” Gale asks almost nervously.

Madge blinks in confusion and to get rid of the tears.

“What is?” she asks curiously.

“This,” Gale says right before picking her up.

Madge’s eyes widen as she suddenly finds herself eye-to-eye with Gale. His one arm is across her thighs, right below her butt, while his other arm cradles her torso to him. Madge winds her arms around his neck to help distribute her weight more evenly, but that brings her even closer to him. Their cloudy breaths mingle in the air before ascending upwards.

_ “Now  _ we can dance,” Gale grins. Madge laughs as he spins them around and those elaborate twirls and dips. He seems to be just as happy as her, and very soon her laughter grows breathless the more she stares into his eyes. Who thought it was fair to give him such beautiful eyes?

In fact, everything about Gale’s handsomeness was off. He didn’t have the look of a 21st-century man. In fact, his was the kind of face you’d recall of a man from the 1800s. Not a prince, but a man who made his own fortune; wrote his own destiny. The kind of man you’d wither away for, because none can compare.

The music slows and so does Gale. A flurry gets caught in between his long eyelashes. He sets her down gently, and Madge has never wished for a song to go on more than she did right now.

“Gale, I-” Madge is cut off by the loud clang of the percussion. In her infatuated-induced haze, she hadn’t realized that the song hadn’t actually finished, but before she can continue her thought, Gale’s hand, which had moved from her ribs to her back, applies slight pressure.

Eyes widening with realization, Madge allows herself to be dipped back by him. And  _ then _ the song ends.

For one frozen moment, she hovers midair as Gale suspends her. His skin glows blue from the lights and her chest heaves as her heart rate only picks up.

Then Gale straightens her back up and it’s over.

“Come on,” he says without preamble. “The others must be waiting for us.”

Madge stares after him, feeling as if there’s a hole that’s been carved into her chest.

“Hey!” she shouts as she runs after him. He turns around and looks at her bewilderedly.

“What?” he asks, looking puzzled.

“Do you think it’s funny?” Madge demands. “Playing with someone’s heart like that?”

Gale frowns at her. “What are you going on about, Undersee?”

“My name is Madge!” she explodes, shaking with hurt and anger. “My name is Madge, and you knew my fantasy! Is this some kind of sick joke, making poor, unwanted Madge believe she’s going to be kissed?”

“Madge-” Gale tries to speak, but she cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she tells him icily. “I’m going home.”

She storms by him, vision blurred by tears, but a restraint on her wrist holds her in place.

“You’ve got it wrong,” Gale says quietly, his hand holding onto her. “I’m not trying to play any game with you.”

Madge closes her eyes and her tears finally spill over.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers. “I’m the one that thought you actually wanted…”

She feels something warm on her cheek, and then Gale’s chapped lips are pressing gently against hers.

Her eyes bulge open, but sure enough,  _ Gale Hawthorne is kissing her. _

_ Gale is kissing me… _

She’s vaguely aware of their friends cheering when he pulls away. Frankly, a bomb could go off and she wouldn’t notice. All she can see and feel at the moment is him.

“I just didn’t think it was appropriate,” he shrugs. “You clearly have this old-timey thing going on. I don’t think they kissed before a first cornship.”

“Courtship,” Madge corrects breathlessly.

Gale rolls his eyes but his face quickly becomes apologetic again.

“I’m sorry I messed things up, I really didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“No, it’s my fault!” Madge moans. “I’m so stupid sometimes. I’m really sorry for going off on you like that, I’ve just liked you for  _ so  _ long that I don’t really think clearly when it comes to you.”

Gale’s eyebrows shoot up and Madge’s covers her mouth with her hand. She had  _ not _ meant to say that aloud!

“Well,” Gale begins, looking awfully smug. “If that’s how you feel…”

“Oh, God,” Madge groans, ducking her head. “Why do I keep on embarrassing myself tonight?”

Gale lifts her chin up. The snow has dusted his hair white.

“I was going to say if you’re that sorry, you can make it up to me by taking me on a date tomorrow,” he chuckles.

Happy, but still embarrassed, Madge smiles shyly.

“Sure, just text me your dream first date,” she says with a small giggle.

Gale laughs loudly.

“I have nothing that’s first date appropriate,” he says mischievously. “Maybe we can work something out on the third date?”

Madge rolls her eyes. “Don’t push it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grr this wasn't really the tone I wanted to put out, but it was the best I could do after not writing for a while. Hope you guys liked!


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